Awakening
by LazyWriter737
Summary: Set postX2, Jack McGregor is a young mutant who must come to terms with what he is, and at the same time, save those he loves. Revised and complete. Reviews welcome.
1. Awakening

Darkness was the only thing he saw as he slowly opened his eyes. He had absolutely no idea where he was, but intended to find out soon. As he started to stir, his entire body was struck by overwhelming pain. He would have to use methods other than exploration in order to realize his surroundings.

Distantly, a man coughed. Few people would be able to notice such a faint, far-off sound, much less determine whether the cough came from a man or a woman, but he could. Much closer to him than the coughing man, he heard a soft beeping sound, followed by an identical tone about three quarters of a second later, followed by another, and another, and another.

He drew in a deep breath through his nose, sniffing his surroundings. His chest hurt when he did so, but not nearly as badly as when he tried to sit up. The fragrance of the room was that of sterility, cleaning chemicals masking the unmistakable stench of death. This was the one thing he smelled wherever he went, but in this place, it was lingering. Death visited this place often.

He already knew where he was, but he decided he needed some visual evidence to make his case solid. He closed his eyes, and then reopened them slowly. The room, which was previously shrouded in complete darkness, slowly revealed itself to him with every passing second. Soon he could see everything that the darkness masked, almost as if he were looking through a pair of night-vision goggles. But he wore no such apparatus; he didn't need such a thing.

Above him he saw a large light suspended from a metal arm attached to the wall. Next to his bed stood several monitors. There was a large window several feet to his left, completely covered by thick drapes. In front of him was a television suspended from the ceiling, while on his right he saw more monitors, a small table, and two closed doors. The closer of the two, he decided, led to a restroom, the other to a hallway.

He sighed heavily as he rested his head on his pillow. He closed his eyes and whispered to himself in suppressed anger, "A hospital. Perfect."

He lay there for nearly half an hour, thinking of nothing, breathing shallowly, trying to remain perfectly still. He knew that if he moved, he would be attacked by overwhelming soreness, but he decided that he couldn't just lie there like a human-shaped rock. He needed to move.

He opened his eyes slowly; even his eyelids hurt. His hand stretched gradually, and he reached for a small plastic box resting beside him. He delicately felt it, and located a button on it, which he pressed.

Within moments, he heard soft footsteps in the hallway. They approached rather rapidly; a sense of urgency could be heard in them. They drew very close until they momentarily stopped as the door latch clicked and they began anew as the door quietly creaked open.

Soft light streamed into the room, just as a petite woman wearing a white uniform entered. Despite the small amount of light available, he could see her clearly. She seemed to be in her early to mid twenties, only a couple years his senior, and full of life. Her cheerful face was small and cute, while her rust-colored hair just barely graced her shoulders. He thought she was beautiful.

"Ah, it's good to see you awake, Mister McGregor. You had us a little scared." The nurse reached for the dimmer switch on the wall, and the lights slowly came to life, illuminating the room slightly.

The patient, ignoring his soreness, lifted an arm and covered his eyes. Even this small amount of light was too much for him. He let his senses adjust, and then asked, "How did I get here?"

The nurse slowly approached, checking one of the many monitors by his bed. She reached out and adjusted his IV tube, softly answering, "A trucker found you by the highway a little after that...weird...attack or whatever it was. Apparently, you lost control of your vehicle and rolled it."

He lowered his arm and looked at her in confusion. "What attack?"

"There was a strange mind attack a few days ago," she answered. "Everyone felt it. Some are saying that some mutants were trying to kill everyone off. Others are saying that they were non-mutants. And others are saying that it was just some weird phenomenon; nobody was behind it. Whatever it was, quite a few people got hurt. You weren't the only person who went off the road when it happened. Cars ran into trees, off bridges, into other cars. A couple jets even fell out of the sky. Lots of innocent people were hurt, even killed."

McGregor was still somewhat confused. All he managed to say was, "Is my truck alright?"

She giggled softly, flashing him a look of genuine amusement. "Yes, your truck is just fine. Just a few scratches and dings. Some broken glass, a little twisted metal." She injected his IV tube with a small needle. "As for you, you have some pretty bad cuts, bruises, and sprains. No broken bones or internal damage, though."

"But my truck's OK?"

"Mister McGregor, I just gave you something to help dull the pain," she said. "You should be able to go back to sleep if you want to."

"Thanks." He smiled ever so slightly. "And you can call me Jack. 'Mister McGregor' is my father."

The nurse's smile was a bit wider than Jack's. "OK. From now on, it's 'Jack.'"

"And you are?"

The nurse smiled again. "Paula. Paula Brody."

Jack could feel the drugs taking effect. His pain was smothered; numbness and senselessness swallowed him. "Pleased to meet you," he mumbled. Then, just as darkness was all he saw when he awoke, darkness was all he saw as he drifted back into unconsciousness.

* * *

Jack could barely see his surroundings. The pain in his head was too intense. He couldn't hear the screeching of the tires. The noise inside him was deafening. He didn't notice it when his head smashed into the window, or when his body was thrown lifelessly from the truck.

When the strange pain within him ceased, he felt as if he was floating on air. There was no ground beneath him, nothing around him. He thought to himself, "Is this Heaven?"

His body was suddenly wracked with pain and his heavenly weightlessness was instantly put to an end as his rag-doll of a body helplessly glanced off of a tree. He struck the ground, and then slid to a stop. He tried to move, but couldn't. He tried to scream, but couldn't. He tried to breathe, but couldn't. His body ached, his eyes saw only red, his lungs burnt. He was helpless, and felt as if he was shrinking, turning into a bloody heap of nothingness.

Suddenly, Jack heard a deafening roar, and he somehow was able to inhale. Then, everything went black.

Jack awoke in a cold sweat, gasping for air. His fingers were dug deeply into the mattress, long holes torn into the padding. He was paralyzed in fear and pain, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. He didn't know how long he was stuck in this condition.

"Jack! Jack!" Paula Brody stood over him, trying to snap him out of his hypnotic state. She was almost yelling at him. "Jack! Are you alright?" She reached out to touch his face.

Jack's body relaxed as he felt her soft hand on his cheek. His heart was racing and he was almost to the point of hyperventilating, but he slowly recovered. He looked up at Paula and whispered, "I saw it."

Paula looked both concerned and fearful. "Saw what?"

He closed his eyes and swallowed. His throat felt raw and he could barely speak. "I saw the accident. And...I saw it."

"It must have been pretty frightening for you," she said. "I heard you screaming. At least I think it was a scream. It sounded almost like a roar or a howl."

"It was so real."

"It's alright now, Jack. It was just a nightmare." Paula eased Jack's hands from the deep gouges in the mattress. "But just to be safe, I'm going to have Doctor Brooks come talk to you in the morning. He's the town psychiatrist. Now, try and get some rest."

Jack smiled and nodded his head. He watched as the nurse turned and poured him a glass of water, and thanked her as she handed it to him. She smiled and left the room, turning the lights down as she exited.

He swallowed some of the cool liquid, and then placed the glass on the wheeled bed table beside him. He tried his best to fall asleep, but he couldn't. He didn't want to face the dream again. He didn't want to feel the pain. He didn't want to see whatever that thing was standing over his lifeless body.


	2. Recovery

The road to Jack's recovery was quick; even he was amazed at how quickly he regained his life. When he awoke the morning after the break in his three-day coma, his body was almost completely free of soreness. But, he was still very weak. He almost passed out when he removed the many life-sustaining tubes from his body, having particular trouble with the IV in his right arm.

He felt sick for some time, sitting on the edge of his bed to regain his composure. Fifteen minutes later, he was standing, albeit very unsteady. He slowly made his way to the large covered window across the room. His small uneasy steps reminded him of those of an old man who was losing his ability to walk, or a child just gaining that very ability.

Jack reached up and pulled a cord by the edge of the drapes. The thick, heavy fabric slowly parted from the middle, until the entire window was free of obstruction. The view that greeted him was fantastic.

The hospital in which he was staying was at the top of a hill, looking down on a perfect little town, the kind that one might see on a post card. The town was situated in a valley, surrounded by mountains. There were dozens of houses and shops standing in small blocks divided by two-lane roads. There was only one church, a beautiful white building. Its steeple towered high above the rest of the town. In terms of height, this was the town's largest building, but judging by shear volume, one other building reigned supreme.

It, like the church, was completely white, a beautiful building in this pristine town. But unlike the church, its dimensions were almost cubical. It stood two stories tall and its front was decorated with beautiful relief sculptures and huge Corinthian columns. Atop the roof stood a large dome, which was topped with a bronze statue.

"Do you find our little town to your liking?" Paula entered the room carrying a tray of food.

Jack stared out the window, still surveying the village. "Yes, it's very beautiful. The kind of place I sometimes find myself daydreaming about." He pivoted his head a bit, catching a whiff of what Paula had brought him for breakfast. He licked his lips and asked, "Is that French toast and bacon I smell?"

"Yes it is," Paula answered, placing the tray on the little bed table. "I hope you don't mind that the bacon is a little chewy."

Jack made his way back over to the bed much more quickly and easily than when he'd traveled to the window. He got back in bed. "Oh, that's the way I like it," he smiled.

"Good." She smiled at him. "Now," she said, "eat that slowly. You haven't had any solid food in your stomach for three days, and you don't need to get sick."

"You're the boss."

Paula smiled again, and left the room.

* * *

Jack stood in the hospital room's small bathroom, eyeing himself in the mirror. He stared in a bit of disbelief at the face he saw. He had a long cut below his left eye, extending vertically about two inches. Another cut, much smaller than that under his eye, extended from his scalp to the center of his forehead. His hair had been cut in this area so this laceration could be treated. It looked strange compared to the rest of his hair, which was rather long and shaggy.

Nearly his entire face was bruised. His left cheek was red around the cut, while his right cheek was a purplish blue color. A dark blue bruise covered his entire forehead. The areas of his face that were not bruised were covered in hundreds of tiny cuts and scrapes.

Jack touched a hand to his neck, looking for any cuts there. He only found a little scratch, and a strange scar. He thought it odd that he had this badge of former pain because he didn't remember receiving a cut here in weeks past. Surely he hadn't received it in the wreck. There was no way that a cut this size could have healed in only four days. Still, he felt something familiar about it.

He forced himself to disregard the scar for now, and reached behind his neck to untie his gown. The garment dropped a bit, and he put his arms by his sides to allow it to fall more. When the collar of the robe reached his waist, he grabbed the fabric to stop its descent. What he saw as the robe uncovered his torso was unbelievable.

His entire chest was covered in red and blue. A long area of torn, cut, and scraped flesh extended from his left shoulder down to his right hip. A huge cut, partially healed, was in the center of this area, with a scab-covered hole at his heart. He had never had a wound like this. Never one this large. Never one so severe. He wondered how he ever survived his accident.

"Jack? Jack, are you in here?"

Jack quickly pulled his gown back up and retied it. He opened the bathroom door and returned to his room, where Paula was waiting for him. He cleared his throat and said, "Just in there, uh, admiring my handiwork."

Paula looked somewhat confused. Jack chuckled and ran a finger diagonally down his torso. This little illustration was all Paula needed to understand what he meant.

"Interested in leaving the room for a little while?" Paula stood behind a wheelchair.

Jack smiled. He hobbled to the chair and lowered himself into it. "Am I ever," he stated.

The journey to their destination was rather short, but not nearly short enough for Jack's tastes. He felt sick as the chair rolled down the hall, as he had not moved quite so quickly within the last few days. He quietly asked Paula to slow her pace, and she gladly complied. Jack was supremely happy when they reached their destination, another room down the hall from his.

He saw a large man laying in a bed identical to his. He glanced at Paula and asked, "Who's this?"

"This is Henry Lee," Paula answered. "He was found not too far from where you were."

Jack lifted himself from the wheelchair and approached the man. Henry's entire body was covered in bandages, concealing horrendous wounds. Tubes protruded from his mouth and nose. His breathing was extremely labored.

"Why'd you bring me here?"

Paula touched his shoulder. "He was a very bad man. He killed a few people while performing robberies in the next town, and was on his way here to presumably extend his crime spree."

"What's that have to do with me?"

"This horrible man, a total animal, was almost killed three days ago. You were too, but you survived. He won't. And there's a reason for that."

Jack stood silently staring at the murderer on his deathbed. He didn't know what to say.

"You're a good person, Jack. I know you're a good person. That's why you're alive and well, and he's going to die."

Jack swallowed a knot in his throat as nausea revisited him. He sat down in the wheelchair and whispered, "Please, take me back to my room."

The second day of Jack's recovery was much more active than his first. He was able to walk much more easily and quickly, and could even do a bit of exercise. He toured the entire hospital, which was rather small, and met nearly the entire staff of the facility. He even found the strength to journey outside for a little fresh air. He was still very tired from his ordeal, though, and decided to take nap after lunch.

When he awoke from his midday slumber, he was surprised to find Paula standing over him, eyes closed and a hand on his chest. She stood completely still and looked almost as if she was in pain.

Jack started to say something, wanting to know what she was doing, but something inside him said to stay quiet. He just lay there, looking up at her. He watched her face, which occasionally twitched or changed expression, for what felt like an eternity. Then, when she finally moved, he shut his eyes and pretended to be asleep.

He could hear and feel her straighten up, moving away slowly. He felt her eyes upon him. Then, he felt her leaving the room, but could barely hear her footsteps; he knew she was trying to sneak away and not wake him.

Jack heard the door latch click shut and he opened his eyes. He put a hand on his chest, wondering silently, "What was that?" He didn't understand why she was doing whatever she was doing, why he didn't stop her, and why she was so secretive about it. He wanted to understand, but at the same time, wanted to keep it a mystery.


	3. Release and Rejection

Jack was released from the small town hospital after three days of consciousness. The doctors, nurses, and orderlies, all of whom had helped him in some way or another, were pleasantly shocked and surprised by his very speedy recovery. After all, less than a week ago he was near death, a mass of cuts, scrapes, and bruises, with very little brain activity. Now he was a vibrant, tall young man who was absolutely brimming with life.

Yes, all of them were amazed that he'd made a full recovery. That is, all of them except for nurse Paula Brody. For some strange reason, she seemed to know all the time that he'd be fine, almost as if she had such strong faith in her nursing ability that she could raise the dead.

But Jack dismissed Paula's matter-of-fact view of his recovery. "She's just an optimistic person,"he thought as he walked out the automatic doors of the hospital.

He heard behind him several voices, each saying "goodbye" in their own way. He stopped and turned back, waving at the group of loving people who had worked so hard to rebuild his life. He smiled at them all, temporarily looking into the eyes of each new friend.

Jack's eyes fell upon Paula. She didn't wave to him, and barely held any expression on her face. She just stood watching him, arms crossed, the corners of her mouth lifted in a small smile. She had a strange look in her eyes that Jack couldn't help but see as slightly familiar, like he had known her long ago and he just realized it. But, Jack had no recollection of knowing her previously to his stay in the hospital. He waved to her and smiled, turned, and set off down the road to the sheriff's office, where his truck was being held for him.

The air was rather cool and wet, and the sweatshirt that the hospital staff had supplied for him barely kept the weather at bay. It was much too large for him and it was very drafty. The pants they had given him were also rather large on him, but they fit much better than the shirt. He smiled faintly and sighed as he thought of the generosity of the people at the hospital.

Jack chuckled as he realized that the only articles of clothing he wore that fit him properly were his belt, which kept his pants from falling to his ankles, and his boots. He had worn them during the wreck and they were the only pieces of clothing he wore that had survived. The rest of his outfit from that horrible day had been shredded from the impact of his body hitting a tree, and soaked in his blood.

Presently, a cold wind blew, and Jack's "new" sweatshirt inflated, the chilly air somehow making its way inside. Jack shivered. Normally, he liked cool weather, but he was still recovering from his near-death experience and he had some trouble acclimating to the Wyoming winds. He stopped in his tracks, closed his eyes, and seemed to growl as he concentrated on adjusting to the temperature. He could feel his body change beneath his shirt and pants, warming slowly. This was no natural adjustment; he was using his mutation, something he avoided unless absolutely necessary.

When his body had adjusted to his liking, Jack opened his eyes and looked up at a street sign before him. "Sixth and Main," he said quietly. He reached into his right pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, on which Paula had written directions to the sheriff's office. He read it and looked back up at the sign, and then looked both ways down the street before him. Something instinctual told him to go left, so he did.

A few minutes later, he was standing outside of his destination, a rather small brick building that stood directly west of the town hall. A half a dozen old black and white Jeeps and a few Crown Victorias were parked on the street here. He knew without a doubt that this was the place.

He went inside and approached a small reception desk in a fifteen by ten-foot lobby. The officer sitting behind the desk, an older man with graying hair, looked up at the stranger and asked, "May I help you, sir?"

"Yes, please," he said in a common politeness he often found himself using. "I'm Jack McGregor. I was told I could pick up my truck here."

The officer stared at him for a moment, quietly questioning the validity of the statement, as well as the worth of the young man before him. "Certainly," he mumbled.

Jack stood politely and waited as the officer picked up the receiver of the phone on the desk and punched a red button.

"Sir," the deputy grunted in a gruff tone, "there's a guy here named, uh, McGregor. Jack McGregor. Says he's here to pick up his truck." The person on the other end of the conversation said something. "Oh, yeah," the stern old man grunted. He looked down at the desk for some time, then muttered, "Yes, sir," into the phone. A second later, he hung up the telephone and looked again at Jack.

Jack felt somewhat uneasy. He was used to dealing with people like this one, those who were curt and suspicious of him, but that didn't mean he had to like it. For some reason he wanted to hit the man across his wide forehead, but instead he just stood quietly, looking the deputy in the eye.

"So, you're the guy who got in the wreck outside of town, eh? You had the whole town scared. We all prayed for ya." The officer reached out a hand, which Jack immediately grabbed and shook. "I'm Deputy Schultz. Sorry about treatin' ya like the cow crap stuck to the bottom of my shoe. I'm just a little suspicious of strangers sometimes."

Jack could tell that the deputy was being less than sincere in his welcome, but he took what little bit of politeness he could get. "Thank you, sir," he said.

"Well, son, I got some bad news for ya." He stood and started to walk down a short hallway to his left, Jack's right. "Your truck isn't here."

Jack's body turned hot with a mixed feeling of dread and anger, but he quickly dismissed it, and began following Schultz down the hall as he motioned for him to do so.

"You don't say much, do you?"

"No, sir. Not usually."

"Well, it doesn't matter." Schultz opened an office door at the end of the hallway. "Go on in," he said. "The Sheriff wants to talk to ya."

Jack obeyed and entered the office. Schultz followed him in, and the Sheriff motioned for both of them to sit.

"Hello, Mister McGregor. I'm Sheriff Brown," said the man behind the desk. He was a couple decades older than Jack, but still many years younger than Deputy Schultz. "My brother, who's the Mayor around here, and I have decided that we'd pay for the repairs to your truck. Now, we weren't expecting you to be released from the hospital for a few more days, so the boys down at the shop aren't quite done with her yet."

Jack sat quietly. He didn't know what to say, and again his feelings were mixed. He felt that these total strangers didn't really need to do these good deeds for him, but also felt grateful that they were willing to help him. He decided to do the polite thing and accept the gift, and nodded his head. "Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome, son," said the sheriff. "Now, until your truck is ready to go, we'll put you up at the inn down the street, if that's fine with you."

Jack nodded his head again.

"Good," smiled Brown. He sat still in his chair, closely examining Jack for some time. Finally, he leaned forward and said in a soft tone, "You know, you're a lucky young man. People around here are saying that your recovery is some kind of sign. They're saying you must be a good person, or you'd wind up in a box, like that Henry Lee fella."

Jack was still silent. He knew that Henry Lee, a fellow accident victim, had died this morning. Even though Lee was a murderer and a thief, Jack still felt somewhat guilty that his recovery was miraculous and Lee's was nonexistent.

"Now, I don't know if those people are right," Brown said. "I don't know if you're a good guy. I don't know if you're a bad guy. All I know is...you'd better not let these people down. If you have any bad intentions, then you'd better leave now." He looked at Schultz, then back at Jack. "Otherwise, we'd be happy to have you in our town."

"Believe me, sir," Jack said, "I'm not here to make any trouble. I don't want to hurt anybody, or steal from anyone. I was just passing through when...whatever that 'attack' was knocked me for a loop."

Sheriff Brown smiled. "Good," he said. "That's just great to hear. Now, do you have any questions or special requests?"

Jack thought for a little while, and then asked, "Well, if it's not too much trouble, would I be able to get some things out of my truck?"

"Sure. Deputy Schultz here will drive you down to the shop."

* * *

When Jack and Deputy Schultz arrived at the mechanic shop minutes later, Jack saw a familiar black truck looking back at him through the open garage door. It stood over the shop's oil change pit, and three men were hard at work trying to restore it to perfect condition.

One of the mechanics, his head poking up out of the pit, looked toward the direction of the two approaching men. He grabbed a rag to clean his oil-covered hands, and climbed the stairs leading up into the shop's upper bay.

"Hello, Floyd," Schultz said.

"Hey, Bob. Who's this with ya?"

The deputy looked at Jack and answered, "This is the owner of the truck you're workin' on. Name's Jack McGregor."

The mechanic, whose face was dirty and unshaven, reached toward Jack and smiled. "Pleased to meet ya, Jack. That's a real nice machine you got there. Sorry we haven't finished workin' on 'er yet."

Without hesitation, Jack shook the friendly stranger's oil-covered hand and replied, "It's no problem. The Mayor and Sheriff have allowed me to stay in the inn until you're finished."

"Well," Schultz said, "we're here because Jack needs to get some things."

"Yeah? Well, I'll be happy to get them for ya. What do you need?"

"Just a suitcase in the cab, if it's still there."

Floyd climbed inside the vehicle. "Yeah, it's still in here," he said. "It's dumped, though. Can't be sure everything's here."

"That's OK," Jack replied.

After gathering up all of the items that he could find, Floyd closed the suitcase and exited the vehicle's cab. Climbing down, he pointed at the tall fiberglass camper shell covering the pickup's bed.

"That shell wound up with a pretty big crack in it," the mechanic stated. "Did my best to repair it, but I don't know how well it'll hold."

Jack chuckled. "Oh, I'm not too worried about that. How's the…cargo in the back?"

"Oh, just fine," Floyd answered. "You sure know how to secure somethin' like that."

Deputy Schultz was growing impatient. "Well, Floyd, if it's OK with you, Jack and I gotta go. I have a lot of work to do back at the station, and I'm sure he's pretty tired." Waiting for a response from neither Floyd nor Jack, he headed toward his black and white truck, and then climbed inside.

Jack waved to the friendly mechanic and followed the deputy. The two quickly sped off toward the inn.

* * *

Jack lay on the bed, half asleep. He'd been here in his motel room for nearly an hour, staring blankly at the television set on the dresser opposite the bed. He thought of how Deputy Schultz had impatiently waited as he checked into the inn, and then carried his luggage upstairs for him. Without waiting for any kind of "Thank you," the deputy closed the door, went downstairs, and left. Needless to say, Jack didn't like him much.

Jack then thought of the phone conversation he had overheard between Schultz and Brown. He didn't mean to eavesdrop. He could just hear it. Sometimes he couldn't control his extraordinary senses.

"This is Brown," he heard in a muffled voice.

"Sir, there's a guy here named, uh, McGregor. Jack McGregor. Says he's here to pick up his truck."

"Ah, the kid who lost it on the highway."

"Oh, yeah."

"Now, Jimmy, don't scare the little interloper. Try to be nice to him, just like I'm gonna be. We want the vagrant outta here ASAP, but we don't want the poor kid to think he's headed for a lynch mob. And, you never know. He could be one of those damn mutants. The last thing we need is to make him mad and have him kill half the town. Got that?"

"Yes, sir."

Jack felt downhearted, angry, hated. He didn't belong here. As just some guy passing through, he was despised. If they knew he was a mutant, he'd not just be despised, but hated and feared. Here, he could exist as neither a mutant nor a normal human being. He let out a long growl, and tears filled his eyes as he slowly drifted to sleep.


	4. Answers

"Oh, goodness," said the man kneeling over Jack's body. "Look at him."

Jack saw nothing but shades of red. A dark figure was near him, another approaching rapidly.

"Poor thing," said a feminine voice.

"Is he alive?"

The second figure drew even closer. "Yes," she said, "but just barely. He's lost a lot of blood. He probably has internal injuries, too."

"What should we do? By the time an ambulance gets here, he'll be dead."

The woman sighed, and then said, "I'm going to try and save him."

Though he could barely comprehend what was happening around him, Jack could see the first figure's surprise by the way he moved.

"What? You can't! He's too far gone!"

"Ray, he needs help. You said yourself he'll die before an ambulance gets here."

"But I don't want you to get hurt. Remember the last time you tried to save someone hurt this badly? Remember that little girl? Not only were you not able to save her, but you almost killed yourself."

"But I've gotten more powerful since then. And not only has the strength of my power grown since then, but I also know how to control it now."

There was a long period during which neither of the two figures spoke. Finally, the man broke the silence.

"Alright," he said. "But I want you to stop at the first sign of problems. You may not be able to save him, but you can save yourself."

The first figure stood and moved away while the second drew closer. Jack felt a hand on his neck, another on his chest. He didn't understand what was happing. Slowly, he felt a strange sensation inside him, one that felt like pain, warmth, fear, and happiness all impossibly rolled into one.

Suddenly the woman jumped back as a horrible roar erupted from somewhere close by. Jack didn't know where the frightening sound came from, just as he didn't know why the man ran forward and punched him in the face, knocking him back into unconsciousness.

* * *

Jack gasped as his eyes flew open. He could almost feel the pain from the man's fist. The dream was so real. So frightening. So familiar.

He turned over in the warm bed, facing the digital alarm clock on the nightstand. It was barely past five o'clock in the morning, too early to get up, at least in Jack's opinion. He rolled over tried to get back to sleep, but couldn't. There was too much on his mind, too much to just try to push aside.

"That roar," He whispered. He recognized it. It was identical to the one in his nightmare only three nights earlier. But that wasn't the only time he had heard it.

He pushed the thick blanket off of himself and sat up on the edge of the bed. He looked at himself and realized that he'd fallen asleep after only removing his boots. Somehow he'd been able to get under the covers, though.

But that wasn't important. He was too busy trying to remember the first time he'd heard that awful roar. Before those strangers had tried to help him. Before the accident. Before.

He stood and slowly made his way to the bathroom. He winced as he turned on the light. He'd forgotten how much he hated being exposed to bright light after a night's sleep, something he forgot every morning.

Slowly his eyes adjusted, and he looked into the mirror. He saw a young man, tall and thin. His face was covered in the beginnings of a beard, the result of not shaving in a few days. He didn't really like how this looked, but he thought it made him look a bit older than he normally did.

He was twenty years old, but since childhood, he'd always looked two or three years younger than his real age. He'd always been the short kid, and then when he had his teenage growth spurt, he became the skinny tall kid. It was horribly annoying.

Now, he was the tall skinny young man. He was finally growing out of his awkward teenage body, showing signs of manhood. He still looked young, and people often thought he was, but he didn't care any more. He knew who he was, and what he was. And for the most part, he was just fine with that.

But he sometimes had his doubts about living this life of not caring what others thought. He'd sometimes find himself depressed by how others saw him. He was still rather frail looking, even though he could tear anyone apart if they bullied him. He was the last person many would expect to be a mutant, especially one of inhuman strength.

The cuts on his face were healing very quickly; the one on his cheek was less than half its original size, while the one near his hairline was completely healed, leaving behind a scar the width of a hair. He decided that the more prominent facial wound would leave a very obvious scar. He didn't care, though. He'd had scars before. He thought they were a testament to life. Something that shows that one is truly alive.

The scar on his neck was pretty noticeable, but he wished he knew how he'd received it. It was as mysterious as the familiar howl.

Jack looked at the short spot in his hair where the hospital staff had to cut it in order to treat his cut. It looked strange and out of place. Something had to be done about it.

He left the bathroom and then returned seconds later with a cloth pouch about the size of his hand. First unzipping it, he opened it up to reveal a wide array of tiny tool parts. He reached inside and removed something he'd carried with him for years, his trusty survival tool, a combination of pliers, screwdrivers, and pocketknife.

Jack smiled as he felt the familiar weight in his hands. He unfolded the tool and then unfolded a tiny pair of scissors from within. He then set to work cutting his hair to match the short spot.

More than thirty minutes later, he was finished, having done a satisfactory job. The scissors, previously razor-sharp, where now dull and covered in little pieces of dark blonde hair.

Jack felt itchy, so he immediately removed his sweatshirt and started to make his way toward the shower. But he was distracted by what he saw in the mirror. The horrendous wound on his chest, which had been more almost two feet long, was now only a foot in length.

After examining his strangely healing wound, Jack showered and then got dressed, all the while wondering how he could heal so quickly. His body had always repaired itself rather quickly, a cut closing up and disappearing in half the time it would take for a normal human with an identical injury, but this was different. He'd never seen anything heal this quickly, not even a long deep tear he'd once received on his hand.

Jack had heard of other mutants who could heal at unimaginable rates. Could this be happening to him? Could his mutation be expanding, manifesting itself in a new way? He didn't know how to answer these questions.

* * *

Jack exited the inn and stood on the sidewalk, surrounded by the cool mountain air. He was warm, much warmer than the day before when he'd worn baggy, oversized, borrowed clothes. He was now in his own clothing, a dark red dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, long loose black pants, carefully shined black boots, and a black leather overcoat that came down to his knees.

Jack heard a familiar growl coming from within him, not an animal growl, but one that was very human. He was hungry.

He remembered passing a small diner the day before, so he immediately headed in its direction. In no time at all, he arrived there, and went inside. It was like stepping back through time.

The small restaurant was decorated in bright colors, especially aqua and pink. A few neon signs hung on the walls, as did tin Route 66 signs, and posters of American icons: Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, and Elvis. Jack smiled. He felt at home.

After ordering his breakfast, conversing with the pleasant man behind the counter, and eating, Jack stood slowly. He removed his wallet and pulled out a ten-dollar bill, partially stained with blood. "Thanks for breakfast," he said.

As he stepped out onto the sidewalk, Jack looked around. Only a few people were out and about on this cold overcast day. He flipped up the collar of his overcoat, trying to keep the cold wind off of his scar. He began to walk back toward the inn, when something caught his eye. He turned, and found a newspaper vending machine, a paper standing in the little window. On the front page, in huge bold letters it read:

LOCAL GIRL FOUND TO BE A MUTANT AFTER ELECTROCUTING TEACHER


	5. Allies

Jack stood outside a small brick house on the outskirts of Hope Springs. Only seconds earlier, he had watched the sheriff leave the house. His instincts told him to stay out of sight of this man, so he hid behind a large old tree until the lawman was gone. He then approached the house cautiously.

He heard voices inside, soft, sobbing voices, the kind one would expect to hear between family members reuniting after fate had so cruelly ripped them apart. He knew that the girl had probably spent the night in custody, and the sheriff had just brought her home.

Jack softly knocked on the front door. He heard no response from inside, so he knocked again, harder this time. He immediately heard movement within the building, and the door opened seconds later.

A man in his early forties stood in front of him. He was tall, with dark hair and eyes. He wore a mustache and a small beard.

Jack stepped back, asking, "Mister Keith?"

"Yes."

"I'm Jack McGregor," he said. He held up the newspaper in his hand and continued, "I'm here about your daughter."

Mr. Keith had a look of anger and disgust on his face. "Are you from the press or something? Which newspaper sent you? Cheyenne? Denver?"

Jack shook his head. "No, sir. I'm not with the press. I'm here to help. I think your daughter might be in danger."

Mr. Keith looked confused. He didn't know if the young man was telling the truth. He didn't know if he was really here to help, or to cause more pain. He sighed, and said softly, "Come in."

Jack followed the man inside, and they sat down in the living room. There were a few seconds of silence, in which time April and her mother, Penny, entered the room.

"Let me start off by saying that I'm sorry about what happened yesterday." He looked at April. "I know that accidents can happen when you can't fully control your mutation. But the people of the town might not see what happened as an accident. Some might think you were trying to kill your teacher."

April's face was red, full of anger and fear. "But I wasn't trying to kill him! I'd never try to hurt Mister Lewis. He's my favorite teacher."

"I understand that," Jack said, nodding. "But if even if they do understand that it was an accident, the people will still fear you. They'll see you as a threat because you can't control your power." He glanced around the room, looking each of the three family members in the eye. "And the truth is, you _are_ a threat."

Anger was very apparent on Mr. Keith's face. He was about to yell something, when Jack stopped him.

Looking at April's father, Jack said, "She's a threat to _herself_. She needs guidance. Teaching on how to control her mutation."

Mrs. Keith, who had been staring off into space, chose this moment to speak up. "Who's going to do that, _you_?"

"I can help, but I'm really not qualified to properly instruct her on the use of her powers."

"I've been trying to contact someone," April said. "A guy named Xavier. I heard that he runs a school for mutants. But the school was raided last week by some government agency, and I haven't been able to get in touch with anyone there."

April's father looked at her sternly. "You mean you already knew that you were a mutant?"

April nodded, saying, "Yeah. I found out about my powers a couple years ago."

"How?" Mr. Keith was almost enraged that his daughter had been hiding the truth for so long.

"That isn't important right now. What _is_ important is that she gets some help." He paused for a moment. "Xavier is probably the only one you can trust on this. There are other organizations that promise to train and educate young mutants, but I've heard a lot of negative things about them. Some are crime syndicates. Others are organizations looking for guinea pigs for experimentation."

"That's horrible," gasped Mrs. Keith.

Suddenly, chills ran down Jack's spine. His instincts were telling him that something was wrong. He looked at Mr. Keith and asked, "May I request something of you and your family?"

The middle-aged man nodded silently.

"Pack your bags. I feel that something bad is going to happen. At the first sign of trouble, I want you all to leave."

* * *

After leaving the Keiths' house, Jack returned to the inn, where he received a phone call from the mayor. He wanted to meet Jack, and the young man agreed. Jack spent much of the rest of the day talking with the leader of this little city, meeting town officials, and was even given a rather large sum of money from the townspeople.

He returned to his temporary home around dusk. As he entered the inn, the man at the desk stopped him.

"Mister McGregor?"

"Yes," Jack answered, turning to the old man.

"You got a call while you were out. Seems your truck is ready to go."

Jack smiled. "Great," he said, walking toward the door.

"Oh, you can't get it now, son."

"Why not?"

The old man smiled a wide toothless smile. "Because," he said, "the shop's closed. You'll have to get it in the morning."

"Oh," Jack said, somewhat disappointed. "Well, thanks for relaying the message."

"No problem, son."

Jack went up to his room, where he packed his things, and then stood at his window. He couldn't ignore is instincts, which were telling him that things were going to get ugly, fast. He just stood there, waiting. Waiting for whatever was going to happen to finally happen.

When that time came, it was worse than he'd imagined. At first he heard a soft hissing sound, almost like a faint battle cry. It slowly drew closer, and he saw a huge mass of people marching down the street.

He understood what was happening even before he knew he did. Most of them were armed. Some carried shovels or pitchforks. Others carried shotguns, rifles, and handguns.

Most of the people who were not armed carried signs that read things like, "No mutant is a good mutant," and, "We want Hope Springs to be mutant-free." One sign even said, "God hates mutants."

Jack was afraid. Were they after him? Or someone else?

"Oh, no," Jack whispered as he grabbed his suitcase. He ran downstairs and out of the building, where he saw the huge procession approaching. His heart was racing as he bolted down the street toward Floyd's shop.

It was hard to run with the large suitcase, but he couldn't leave it behind, due to what he was carrying inside it. It was something valuable, something that only he knew about. Something he needed.

He hoped the people hadn't seen him, and if they had, he hoped they didn't know why he was running. Thoughts of the mob overpowering him raced through his head, causing fear to consume him. His heart rate sped even more, and adrenaline rushed through his body.

He felt his most basic animal instinct, 'fight or flight,' kick in, and his pace increased. He was moving fast enough to put an Olympic runner to shame, reaching Floyd's shop, a distance of more than a half-mile, in only a few seconds.

All of the lights inside the shop were off, and all the doors were closed. He saw that his truck was inside the garage, a place he needed to be.

"When God closes a door," he said, running toward the shop's small wooden door. He crashed into the barrier, shattering it completely. "Make one of your own!"

Jack quickly found his keys, and moments later, rammed the vehicle through the garage door. Glass and pieces of aluminum showered the street as the truck roared down the road.

He reached the Keiths' house almost as quickly as his sprint from the inn to the shop. Jack jumped out of the truck and ran to the front door of the house, yelling loudly.

"Hurry! They're coming!"

Mister Keith opened the door and asked in an angry tone, "Just what in the name of Heaven are you yelling about?"

"You all have to get out of here! About a hundred people are headed this way with all sorts of weapons! They're coming for her!" Jack had never been so emotional; he felt an uncontrollable combination of fear and urgency.

"Penny! April! Come on," Mr. Keith yelled. "We have to leave!"

April and her mother came running, both carrying suitcases.

"Hurry, get in the car," Mr. Keith said, trying to calm himself. "I'll go get my things."

Jack looked at the girl and her mother. "No! April should go with me! I can protect her. Taking her with you would just put you two in jeopardy."

April's parents stared at Jack, uncertain of what to say or do.

"It's OK," April said to her parents, trying to act calm. "Just do as he says, I'll be better off with him, and you'll be better off without me." Tears were starting to fill her eyes.

Mr. Keith looked at Jack, unsure if it was the right thing to do, but only momentarily. He nodded, and then turned to his wife. "Come on."

Jack heard sirens approaching in the distance. He turned to the couple headed for their car and yelled, "The mob and the police are approaching from the east, so go west!"

Mr. Keith yelled back, "Where are you going to go?"

"We'll go east and distract the sheriffs. But don't worry. I won't let anything happen to her."

Then, everyone climbed aboard their vehicles, Jack and April in the truck, Mr. and Mrs. Keith in their car.

Jack sped down the street toward the oncoming police. "Buckle up," he yelled to April. She did so immediately.

A stone stare crossed Jack's face as the three black and white vehicles drew closer. He sped on, playing a high-stakes game of chicken, knowing who would lose. The cruisers came ever closer and his glare became more intense. They were only a few hundred feet apart now. They drew close enough that Jack could see the faces of the deputies inside the cruisers. Their expressions were completely different from his; one of them even looked as if he was staring death in the eyes.

Only feet from the Jack's truck, the lead deputy slammed on his brakes and turned wildly to avoid a collision. He did avoid hitting the oncoming truck, but did not avoid hitting a telephone poll, which snapped and fell onto his Jeep.

The second two vehicles, both Crown Victorias, split and Jack drove right in between them. They immediately turned around, one almost spinning out of control in the process.

Jack looked in his mirror to see the two vehicles giving chase not too far behind him. He pressed harder on the accelerator and the truck lurched forward. But the two smaller vehicles accelerated too quickly for Jack's aging vehicle to keep its lead very long.

The deputy in the lead car chucked as he gained on the black truck, cursed as he navigated around potholes in the old country road, and screamed as the vehicle ahead quickly decelerated. He swerved to avoid a collision, but clipped the truck's rear end, and the police cruiser spun off the wet road and into a ditch.

Jack's stone stare was still on his face as he accelerated, leaving the disabled police car in his wake. Now only one remained, and he had to think fast to find a way to get rid of it.

Before Jack found a solution, it presented itself before him. The last deputy piloted his vehicle beside Jack's, driving in the opposite lane. He motioned for Jack to stop, but the young man did not comply. He simply shook his head and turned sharply to pin the car against a guardrail. Sparks flew and metal screeched for what must have been fifteen seconds. But eventually the guardrail ended, and the cruiser was forced off the road.

Jack sighed loudly and his look of determination faded into one of gladness and relief. He looked over to April, only to find that she had passed out in all the excitement.


	6. Hiding

A familiar sound buzzed in Jack's right ear, but only momentarily. A second later it returned, ending again just like the time before. A third time, and then a fourth. Finally, Jack heard a click, and a familiar voiced greeted him.

"Hello?"

He remained silent for a little while, and then asked in a very quiet tone, "Are they alright?"

The woman at the other end of the line immediately recognized him. "Jack, where are you?"

"It doesn't matter. Are they alright?"

"You mean the deputies?"

"Yeah."

She sighed. "Why are you so concerned about their welfare now? You could've killed them."

"I take it by 'could've' that they're alright."

"Yeah," she answered. "Just some scratches. They're more shaken up than injured."

There was a long period of silence before Jack whispered, "Good."

"You're genuinely concerned, aren't you?"

"I don't like hurting anyone. I was only trying to escape, not trying to kill them. I was just following my instincts."

"How's April?"

"She's fine. Just come scratches. More shaken up than injured."

She tried to muffle a little laugh, saying, "She's a good kid. I never would've thought she'd get tangled up in something like this."

Jack was silent again. A faint feminine voice could be heard, after which he mumbled, "I have to go."

"Okay." She started to say goodbye to him, but he interrupted her.

"Thanks for helping me."

"It was nothing. I was just doing my job."

"No," he whispered. "You put your life and soul in me. For that, I'm supremely grateful."

Jack hung up the phone, staring at it for some time. He'd wondered for many years why pay phones were available at campsites. Maybe it was because people weren't completely comfortable with the idea of letting go of their lives and using a place like this purely as a retreat. Maybe they wanted something to turn to in case of emergency. Or maybe, like Jack, they just wanted to hear a familiar voice while they're hiding from the world.

Jack smiled as he walked away from the old pay phone. It did him good to hear Paula's voice. She was one of the few people he felt he could trust right now.

Jack and April spent three days hiding at an old run-down camping area next to a lake. The days were slow, full of conversation and training. It had taken April all of the first day and most of the second to get passed the shocking experiences of the previous days. All she could think about was almost killing her science teacher. But Jack helped her through her feelings, and the training progressed.

April was a fast learner, which she believed was purely due to her teacher's determination. She'd only known him a short time, but she believed him to be a good friend, a great motivator, and a trustworthy ally.

Jack watched as April stood a few feet away, her arm outstretched toward an old metal gas can. Her eyes were closed, as she was concentrating extremely hard. Slowly, a glowing orb of white energy developed at her fingertips. It started out the size of a golf ball, then a baseball. Softball. Volleyball. Basketball.

"Good," Jack said softly. "Now open your eyes."

She obeyed, staring down the rusted old can. Her eyes seemed to glow.

"Release," he commanded.

The orb at April's fingertips flashed brilliantly; it could have temporarily blinded anyone looking directly at it. Then, as instantly as the flash subsided, the orb disappeared, and was replaced by a long bolt of energy, striking the gas can in the blink of an eye. The old metal object burst into thousands of pieces. Each one of these pieces flew up into the air, and then rained down as glowing bits of shrapnel. An arc of static electricity temporarily shot between any pieces that landed less than a couple feet apart.

Jack applauded as the girl turned toward him and smiled. She looked familiar when she gave him this look. He remembered a girl he knew a couple years earlier; April looked just like her. They both were rather small, and had strawberry blonde hair, beautiful dimpled smiles, and wonderful personalities. He smiled, but quickly dismissed his thoughts of familiarity and reminiscence.

"You did very well." He approached her and patted her on the shoulder. "Much better than yesterday when you zapped me in the butt."

She giggled. "I did that on purpose," she said.

"I know."

She laughed loudly, and then sat down at the old cement picnic table. She watched him as he looked up at a tree. "Jack," she said, "what's your mutation?"

Jack was silent, almost as if he were ignoring her. He looked somewhat angry, or maybe unsure of something.

"Jack?"

"Hold on," he whispered, holding a hand up toward her. His head jerked about as birds called back and forth. He listened to them intently, almost like they were speaking to him.

"What is it, Jack?"

"Someone's here." His eyes narrowed. He peered deeply into the trees, watching carefully for any movement. He stepped forward, whispering, "Wait here."

April was both frightened and curious. She stood and started to follow him, but then decided to do as he said. She realized that he would be better off finding their visitor by himself, and she'd just get in his way. She climbed into the cab of his truck, watching as he disappeared in the thick pine trees.

Jack spent nearly half an hour searching for the mysterious intruder. He knew his quarry was close, but he never saw anyone. He could hear the person, sometimes ahead of him, sometimes behind. It was almost as if the prey was hunting the hunter.

It was odd that this individual could so easily evade him. Were the instincts and senses of this being equal, or even superior to his own? Did they know his techniques? Was this person a mutant, somehow using their own powers to counter his? The whole situation seemed terribly familiar, like he'd done this several times before.

Jack heard a soft whisper several yards to his left. He smiled, realizing who was opposing him in this game of cat and mouse.

He turned toward the source of the almost inaudible voice, and commanded, "Come on out, Addy!"

There was a rustling in the bushes, and a woman in her late twenties stood. She had a very familiar face; her features were somewhat similar to his. Her skin was almost exactly the same color as his, as was her hair. She, like him, was rather tall. She grinned widely at him.

Jack shook his head, slowly making his way through the bushes toward the woman. He asked sternly, "Adriana, what are you doing here?"

She looked somewhat disappointed by the inquiry. Answering his question with one of her own, she asked, "Why can't you greet me like a normal little brother?"

* * *

Jack and his sister, Adriana, sat facing each other, separated by a blazing campfire. Adriana's husband, Matthew O'Reilly, sat at the picnic table, eating an old MRE that Jack had given him. April was asleep in the passenger seat of Jack's truck.

"So," Jack began, "what are you guys doing up here?"

"Traveling," Adriana said. "We're finally taking that trip up to Alaska. We decided we'd save some money and camp out tonight instead of staying at a motel. This little lake looked as good a place as any. Isn't it a great coincidence that we ran in to you?"

Matthew looked up from his government-issue meatloaf just long enough to ask, "What are _you _doing here?"

"Yeah," agreed Adriana. "And who's the girl with you?"

Jack looked at April. "Well," he answered, "to make a long story short, I got in a wreck, then met her, and then saved her from an angry mob that wanted to crucify her."

"Oh, that old story." Adriana smiled at her little brother. "I think I saw a movie like that."

"Wait a minute," Matt said, his mouth full of apple sauce, "Were you the guy who rammed his way out of that little town about sixty miles down the road?"

Jack only nodded.

Matt laughed, and then said with a smile, "Oh, you've stirred up a hornet's nest, Jack. I heard on the radio that they have the police, National Guard, and every bloodhound in the state looking for you."

"The National Guard's after us?" April was awake, a look of fear in her eyes.

"Seems that way," Jack said. He and the others were quiet for several seconds before he changed the subject. "April, I'd like you to meet my sister and brother-in-law."

"Hi," Adriana smiled, "I'm Addy."

Matthew waved. "Matthew."

April stared at the two visitors for a few seconds, absorbing their names into her mind. She was still kind of groggy from waking up only seconds ago. "Are you mutants?"

Addy nodded. "Yep," she answered. "Proud carriers of 'Genome X.'"

"What are your powers?"

Adriana looked around for a few seconds, finally focusing on the fire. Her eyes narrowed as she peered into the flame. The large fire began to change, slowing to a turtle's crawl. It was almost like staring at a beautiful glowing sculpture. The fire's arms seemed to barely move.

"She can manipulate time," Jack said loudly, trying to break his sister's concentration. "She makes pockets of accelerated or decelerated time. It's a pretty cool party trick, really." He smiled.

Adriana glared at him, growling, "You'd better wipe that stupid smile off your face or I'll use my 'cool trick' to make it permanent."

April smiled, and then looked at Matthew, who'd just finished his meal. "And yours?"

Matthew stood and slowly walked to a large pine tree nearby. He interlaced his fingers and cracked his knuckles, and then grabbed the plant tightly. He then effortlessly uprooted the evergreen and tossed it through the air. It soared for several seconds, finally splashing down in the lake.

"Superhuman strength," April said in amazement.

Adriana looked at the girl. "What's yours?"

April pointed a finger at Jack, and a bright blue and white bolt of energy shot forth, hitting Jack before he could react.

Jack was knocked several feet and he yelped in pain. "Holy crap," he yelled. "I am not a practice dummy!"

April, Adriana, and Matthew all laughed wildly at Jack's misfortune.

"Yeah, laugh it up," he growled.

* * *

The next morning, Adriana and Matthew were gone, heeding Jack's request that they not get involved in his and April's predicament. He knew that something bad might happen, and he didn't want them to get hurt, even though he knew that these members of his family were more than capable of defending themselves. He felt it his duty, and his alone, to watch after April.

Never straying too far from their campsite, Jack had found them a bountiful breakfast, a variety of fruits, berries, and nuts. The two young mutants made conversation while devouring the feast.

"You know, Jack, you never got around to telling me about your mutation."

Jack looked at her, slowly munching on an apple. He swallowed his food, and asked, "I didn't, did I?"

April put a blackberry in her mouth and stared into Jack's eyes.

"Well," Jack said, "I guess it's only fair that you know all about it. I mean, I know _your_ powers. And the wonder-freaks performed a great demonstration of their powers last night."

He looked up, listening to a bird sounding a loud call. "Hear that bird?" He pointed in its direction. "It's trying to scare a crow away from its nest."

"Is that it? Do you have the amazing power of knowing what birds are saying?"

Jack chuckled at April's smart-aleck question. "Yes." He smiled at her. "Birds, dogs, cats, horses, fish. I can feel animals' thoughts."

"Their thoughts?"

"Well, they're not really thoughts. At least not most of the time. I understand their emotional and instinctual feelings. Their instincts and feelings feed into mine."

"Kind of a sixth sense?"

"Exactly. And along with that strong sixth sense, my other five are very sensitive. Right now I can hear a...wolf...yeah, I'm pretty sure it's a wolf digging a den. I can see a caterpillar climbing a tree behind you. I can smell the tiny bit of perfume that's still on your neck. It's five days old, but there's still some there. I feel vibrations in the ground. My best guess is there are two bucks fighting over a doe. And I taste the water in the air. It's kind of bitter; I think the lake is very mineral-rich."

April was totally engrossed in Jack's explanation of the things he sensed. She thought it was almost poetic. "Wow," she said. "That's amazing."

"I guess so."

"Do you have any other gifts?"

"Yeah, there's another one. It's a little scary, though."

"Oh, show me!"

Suddenly the tiny hairs on the back of Jack's neck stood on end. A frightening chill ran down his spine. In the distance, he heard sixteen pairs of crows' wings flapping. Something had frightened them.

He stood and looked around. He felt slight vibrations under his feet, much different from those made by the two sparring bucks. It felt like something was approaching. He heard a rumbling, which slowly transformed into the distant sound of diesel engines. It felt to him that several land vehicles were drawing within a few miles. It was a convoy, probably comprised of large cargo trucks and Humvees.

"Jack, what's wrong?"

Jack quietly tormented himself. He couldn't believe that he'd been so blind. He was so preoccupied with April, and showing off his gifts, that he hadn't been listening to everything his senses had been telling him. Now it was almost too late.

He turned to the young woman, who was frozen in fear. He sighed loudly, then stated, "I think you're gonna get to see the rest of my powers really soon."


	7. Discovered

Jack opened his old black suitcase. It contained many different things, everything from clothing, to books, to strange pieces of technology. He rummaged through the contents, eventually finding what he was looking for.

He hurriedly removed a small black box. He opened it to find a set of small metal discs, each about the width and thickness of a dime. They each had a small red light on them, as well as three small metal claws.

In a compartment next to the discs, there was something that looked very much like a cufflink, but also very different. The main part of the object was hexagonal, and from each of the item's six sides protruded tiny leg-like structures. A thin metal tube projected from the back of the object, stopping just short of an inch long.

"What's that?" April asked.

Jack removed his overcoat, answering, "It's called a Multi-sensory Artificial Specialized Cover device, or a 'MASC.' Something a friend made for me."

April was nervous. She couldn't yet hear the approaching military vehicles, but she knew that they were coming. "What's it do?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"No time to explain." Jack began to unbutton his shirt, but stopped in the process. He looked at April and gently commanded, "Turn around."

She did as he told her, and he immediately disrobed. He stood naked, and began applying the discs to his body. He placed the first one on his left forearm, and as soon as it came in contact with his skin, the tiny claws dug into his flesh, holding the device tightly in place. A second later, the disc's tiny LED glowed to life.

He continued attaching the tiny pieces of technology to his body, first his arms, then his shoulders, legs, chest, and lastly, his back. He then removed the "cufflink" from its case, and brought it to the back of his neck. He slowly drove the needle-like tube beneath his skin and into his spinal cord. His body twitched slightly, and then tensed as the object's legs burrowed into his flesh.

The small devices on Jack's body all hummed in unison as clothing was projected around him. He looked almost exactly as he did before removing his clothes and affixing the discs.

He threw his suitcase into the back of the large truck. He turned to April and commanded, "Get in the back of the truck and stay down. If there's any shooting, you should be safe."

* * *

Several well-armed men silently approached Jack's truck. They were cautious, but not so much that it interfered with their mission, which was to apprehend the two mutants known as Jack McGregor and April Keith. Their alternative objective was to kill the two young people if they posed too great a threat.

The infantrymen stopped about thirty yards from the seemingly vacant vehicle, where they set up an L-shaped formation. To most people they would have seemed invisible in the brush, their camouflage serving them perfectly, but Jack could see each one of them. He saw each cold metal weapon. Each green helmet. Each soldier's fearful, yet determined expression.

The soldiers were silent; they spoke not verbally, but with hand signals. Two of them nodded to their superiors, and then stood quickly. They approached the old truck rather rapidly, but very silently and with great caution.

Every man in the area jumped in surprise as an orange and white cat dropped out of a tree and landed gracefully on the roof of the truck. Their instincts had momentarily told them that something was wrong, but what they saw with their eyes had told them that all was fine. Jack heard a couple men chuckle softly; they must have felt so stupid to be frightened by the feline. The animal was harmless, or so they thought.

As the two soldiers neared the truck to secure it, the cat leapt off of the vehicle toward them. In mid-air, it transformed, becoming larger and much darker. Now a huge panther, the feline landed on top of the men, simultaneously forcing them to the ground and knocking them unconscious. Then, as easily as it had tackled the two men, it leapt up into the trees, disappearing in the shadows.

The remaining soldiers couldn't believe their eyes. How had this harmless orange tabby changed into a huge black killing machine? They were confused and afraid, and Jack knew this.

The soldiers stared up into the trees, trying to find the beast that had instantly disabled two of their comrades. But before they even found a trace of the animal, another great black creature fell from the trees, landing on two more men. It was not a panther, but a gorilla. With its mighty forearms, it backhanded two nearby weekend warriors, throwing them nearly twenty feet. Then, before anyone could react, it jumped, and like the small cat had previously transformed into a large one, the huge primate morphed into a smaller, but still very dangerous ape.

Now a chimpanzee, it gracefully flew through the air and descended upon two more victims. The ape landed on their shoulders, grabbed them by the necks, and bashed their heads together. Before their limp bodies had even begun to fall to the ground, the chimp jumped, flipped in the air, and landed near another group of potential prey.

The remaining members of the platoon were in disbelief of the goings on. Some seemed shocked, others confused, and some were angry. But all were fearful as their strange enemy performed one more act of transformation.

Before them stood a giant white bull, which scratched at the ground with its hooves. It snorted, and all of the men stood and dropped their weapons. Knowing what was about to happen, they turned and began to run, but this was futile. The large animal charged, plowing through the retreating party like a bowling ball through all ten pins. Each man was knocked around by the creature's head, each one thrown through the air, and each one pounded into a painful dreamland.

When the bull was content that all of its targets were down, it stopped and quietly surveyed the damage. He snorted and closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, he found himself in the form of a human. Even before his body was completely transformed back to its normal form, a holographic set of clothing appeared, covering his nakedness.

Jack ran toward his truck. April was peering out the vehicle's passenger window.

"I thought I told you to stay down!" Jack yelled to her. Adrenaline was still pumping through his body.

"Oh, my God," April muttered. She was still trying to understand what had just happened. "You were amazing out there."

"No time for compliments," he returned. "I noticed a Humvee coming this way. I'm pretty sure it has a rocket launcher mounted on top."

April was barely listening to him. "You were so fast. They didn't even get a single shot off."

"They'll probably try to kill us now. I made our intentions of not going peacefully pretty clear." He climbed up into the bed of the truck and rummaged through a toolbox, shoving some of its contents into a small duffle bag. Content with his selections, he swung the bag onto his shoulder.

Jack peered out the window of the truck's camper shell. He saw the Humvee driving up, stopping about one hundred feet away. The soldier manning the vehicle's rocket launcher took aim.

"Come on. Time to abandon the truck. We'll use _alternative_ means of transportation." Jack grabbed April and forced her onto the red motorcycle standing in the center of the bed. This was the precious cargo he had so jokingly asked Floyd about at the mechanic shop days ago.

Jack mounted the motorcycle, sitting in front of April. He extended his index finger toward one of the cargo straps holding the two-wheeled vehicle secure, and his fingernail slowly transformed into a long, razor-sharp claw. He effortlessly sliced through the straps.

"Hold on tight," Jack yelled

A rocket blazed from the Humvee, hitting its target only moments after being fired. It struck the old truck's side and exploded, instantly igniting the flammable liquid inside the truck's fuel tank. The vehicle erupted in a blinding explosion, and the occupants of the Humvee didn't even notice as the red motorcycle shot out of the truck's bed and sped away at exactly that moment.


	8. Escape

Jack and April sped down the old country road at nearly one hundred miles per hour. They were followed by four Jeeps from the Hope Springs Sheriff's Department, as well as six Humvees and a Blackhawk helicopter from the Wyoming Army National Guard.

Jack knew that the chase would soon come to an end even before he saw the roadblock ahead of them. They crested a hill, only to find dozens of Humvees and cargo trucks in their path. The large green vehicles covered the entire roadway, and trying to escape off-road was out of the question. Jack's motorcycle was made for street driving; speeding through the mud and darting between trees would be suicide.

Jack stopped and stared at the dozens of soldiers ahead of them. He turned his head to look at the deputies behind them. The thought of quickly swinging the motorcycle around and speeding between the trucks before they could react momentarily flashed in his head, but he knew that something would go wrong and he or April would wind up dead. Their running was over.

Jack disengaged the red vehicle's engine and flipped down the kickstand. He dismounted the bike and held his hands up, as did April. Dozens of armed men approached them cautiously.

April was crying. She knew that it wasn't Jack's fault that they were about to be captured, but she couldn't help but feel disappointed. The person who she'd put her trust in, the person who was so confident that he could help, had failed in his mission. Unknown to April, Jack was thinking exactly the same thing.

The soldiers were within twenty feet of the surrendering mutants. Jack could feel their sights set on him and April. M-16s and M-4s were all around, each gun's wielder ready to take his shot if he had to.

A Lieutenant carrying a M-9 pistol followed the group of men. He pointed his gun at Jack's head, stating sharply, "Move and we'll open fire."

Several deputies rushed out to meet the capturing party. They all had their guns drawn, and two held handcuffs in their left hands. The one that was closer to Jack started to put the cuffs on him, mumbling, "By order of the governor of the state of Wyoming, and the Sheriff of Hope Springs, I hereby place you under arrest. You have the right to remain--"

The deputy gasped, seeing that the handcuffs had somehow found their way onto his own wrists and were now securely fastened. He looked around, trying to look for some kind of help, but the other deputy carrying handcuffs was now in the same situation as him.

The soldiers' and deputies' guns were torn from their hands and floated in air, just out of reach of their owners. Each weapon clicked, and their magazines dropped to the ground. They clicked again, ejecting the bullets in the guns' chambers. Before these bits of metal and gunpowder hit the ground, the rifles flew away at great speed, and each shattered into pieces of broken metal against a large pine tree.

The deputies and military men standing at the two roadblocks were also disarmed. Just like the previous weapons, the rifles and pistols were unloaded, and then smashed into nothingness. Everyone, including Jack, was speechless.

Slowly, the military vehicles parted, pushed aside by some unknown force. It was like the parting of the Red Sea, but instead of billions of gallons of water, it was thousands of pounds of steel. Each truck's tires squealed as they rubbed against the roadway.

A man in a beautiful white suit walked through the path made between the trucks. He was a majestic-looking man, tall and handsome, wearing a beard and long shining white hair. He seemed almost to have an angelic glow about him.

The man drew ever closer to Jack and April, and when presented with the soldiers between him and the young people, he gracefully waved his hand. The unarmed men floated about two inches off the ground, and parted before him.

The gentleman looked at the Lieutenant and whispered shamefully, "Hateful creatures." He then turned his attention to Jack. "Get on your motorcycle and follow me. You will not be harmed." He turned around and walked back the way he came.

Jack was unsure of the regal-looking man, but decided that he'd much rather be in the company of him than in the custody of the government. He and April mounted the bike and followed him out.

All of the government employees who had tried to capture the two young mutants were speechless. None tried to stop them. None seemed to be able to move. Jack wondered if they were frozen in surprise and wonder, or if the strange man was somehow preventing them from interfering. It didn't really matter, though.

As Jack cleared the parted military convoy, he saw a pickup truck and a black limousine. The man pointed to the bed of the truck. Jack understood, and drove his vehicle up a plank inclined on the truck's lowered tailgate. He turned the engine off and kicked down the kickstand, and as soon as he and April had dismounted the machine, three men secured the bike with cargo straps.

Jack's and April's mysterious savior motioned for them to come to his limousine, which they did obediently. They loaded into the car, where they found a twenty-something woman. April didn't recognize her at first, but Jack immediately realized who she was. He sat emotionless, staring at her shoulder-length rusty hair and her cute, cheerful face.


	9. Savior's Sanctuary

Paula and Jack stared at each other for some time. She seemed rather happy to see him, while he was horribly confused to see her.

The man in white broke the silence. "I am Elias Altman," he said quietly, offering his hand to Jack.

Jack's attention turned from Paula to Mister Altman. He shook his hand, and replied, "I'm Jack McGregor."

"I know." Altman turned to April, smiling at her. "And you must be Miss April Keith."

"Yes, I am. Thank you for saving us, Mister Altman."

"You are very welcome, my dear. No one deserves to be treated that way, especially not a pretty young woman with her whole life ahead of her." Altman looked to Jack, staring at him for a few seconds. "I've been following your exploits for some time, Mister McGregor. You've made quite a name for yourself. My daughter has told me much about you."

Paula repressed a smile. She hated it whenever her father made her an element of a conversation.

"Oh, yeah?" Jack asked, eyeing Paula.

"Yes, she told me of a friendly young man under her care at the hospital." Altman spoke with a very slight German accent. "She said there was something special about you, something noble and uncommon in people today.

"Then I was informed that you were released from the hospital, only to risk your life trying to keep Miss Keith here from being harmed by a mob of unruly townsfolk. When I learned this, my interest in you grew. I knew, like my daughter did, that there was something special about you. I knew that you were a lover of life, and a hater of hatred."

Jack was silent. He only listened to what was being said, and didn't want to add to the conversation unless he was invited to do so.

Altman asked, "Mister McGregor, are you a mutant, or a non-mutant?"

"Mutant."

"Ah, I believed so. You see, most non-mutants do not fully understand the predicament in which mutants find themselves. Most 'normal' humans, no matter how compassionate they say they are, would not readily risk their lives to save a mutant. If a non-mutant were willing to do this, however, he or she would be a truly extraordinary person, and a true friend of humanity.

"Tell me, Mister McGregor, if you weren't a mutant, would you have attempted to rescue Miss Keith?"

Jack thought for a few seconds before answering, "Since I'm not completely sure how I could truthfully say yes or no, I hope you won't mind if I don't answer."

Altman smiled. "No, I don't mind, Mister McGregor. But I know the answer. I know that you are an extraordinary person, and if you weren't a mutant, you'd still be an extraordinary person. And do you understand why I know this?"

Jack shook his head. He seemed entranced by how the older gentleman spoke.

"The truth is, most mutants would not be willing to become a martyr for another, just like non-mutants. It's human nature. One of our most powerful instincts is the preservation of our own lives. Another is the preservation of those we love. But it is not instinctual for us to preserve the life a total stranger. You, however, proved to have this altruistic instinct, and therefore, I believe that even if you weren't a mutant, you would have saved her, or at least tried."

All of the occupants of the vehicle were silent. Altman looked at April, who was reflecting on what the man had just said to Jack.

"Miss Keith. Do you hate those men who were trying to capture you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"They were just doing their duty. They were ordered to capture Jack and me."

"What about the people in your town? Do you hate them?"

"No."

"No? Even though they hate you?"

"They don't hate me. They're just afraid because I'm different."

Altman smiled again. "That is a very mature attitude, Miss Keith."

* * *

Jack and April spent the next several weeks at Altman's mansion in the Colorado Rockies. It was a rather leisurely existence, which seemed a bit boring to Jack. He spent most of his time working with April, instructing her in the use of her powers. He felt it strange to be doing this, especially after telling April's mother that he wasn't qualified to be a proper teacher for the girl. But, he somehow proved to himself that he was a better teacher than he thought, and he even came to like the task.

Each day, around three o'clock in the afternoon, while April was taking a break, Jack spent time conversing with Mister Altman. He learned that the man was a mutant, a telekinetic. He possessed above average intelligence, which he used to become a self-made billionaire. He used most of his hard-earned money to give aid to anyone who he felt needed it, mutants and non-mutants alike, and used his home as a massive and extravagant halfway house, as well as a training center for young mutants. Altman said that he got the idea from Charles Xavier, who ran a school for gifted youngsters in New York.

Jack was all too familiar with Xavier's school. When he was fifteen, he was approached by Xavier's representatives, and was offered a life of unparalleled learning, respect, and compassion. Jack refused their offer, though. He didn't want to be spoon-fed knowledge. He didn't want all the answers to be handed to him. He didn't want total strangers to teach him about himself. He wanted to find out what he needed to know for himself. Ironic that he was now teaching April in the way that he had rejected for himself.

Jack often asked Altman where Paula was; she'd been absent since that day in the limousine. Altman only stated that she was on a business trip for him, attending to very important matters. This answer troubled Jack, but he didn't allow Altman to know this.

Jack also spent much time watching the news in Altman's large media room. He'd never really been interested in the goings-on in the world, at least, not until recently. After the attacks against mutants and then against normal humans, the world had changed from a place of turbulence into one of unrest. Humans hated mutants. Mutants hated humans. Mutants and humans hated their own kind. At least before the attacks, most everyone was usually quiet about their hatred, but now it was all out in the open.

In more local and immediate news, Jack had learned the suspected specifics in the hunt for him and April. No one had any clue of their whereabouts until a fisherman spotted them at the lake. He immediately alerted officials, and the National Guard was called in to apprehend the fugitives. The news report said that there was a fight in which three soldiers were killed, an obvious lie. Jack knew his own strength, and made sure not to harm anyone too badly.

The news report then said that the two young mutants were almost captured, but somehow made it past the military roadblock, vanishing shortly thereafter. Jack knew this was another lie, but not a deliberate one. He'd learned from Altman that the billionaire's driver, a man known only as Avery, had clouded the minds of all the members of the capturing party. He'd caused them to believe that Jack and April had escaped, when they were actually rescued. No one needed to know that Elias Altman, one of the richest men in the world, was behind the foiling of the capture of two dangerous renegades.

Two weeks after the fugitives' disappearance, the Governor had called off the search. He said that they were probably long gone by then, and were now some other state's problem.

* * *

Jack sat at the desk in his bedroom, quietly drawing up lesson plans for April's training regimen. It was a tough job; he didn't know exactly how to improve her skills, but he'd somehow managed to train her very well for nearly a month now.

There was a soft knock at the door.

"Come in," Jack said.

The door opened, and Paula Brody entered. She smiled at Jack and said, "Hi, there." A man followed her, whom she introduced. "Jack, this is my husband, Ray."

Jack shook hands with the man, who he momentarily recognized. It seemed like he'd met him recently, and almost forgotten him. Jack didn't think anything of it, though. He seemed to once know so many people. He sometimes felt that his animal instincts somehow caused this strange feeling of familiarity, but he had no earthly idea if this theory was correct or not.

"How have you been?" asked Paula.

"Pretty good. Other than being a little bored, and occasionally getting on Avery's nerves, life's been great around here."

"I know what you mean," sympathized Paula. She looked at the papers in front of Jack, and asked, "So, what's that you're working on?"

"Oh, I'm just planning out April's training for tomorrow. I learned very quickly that teaching this girl required more than just telling her to concentrate."

"She's a good kid. I bet she's a fast learner, isn't she?"

"Yeah. She's learned to almost completely control her power. But she has a bit of a temper sometimes, which causes her to accidentally shoot off a few stray bolts of energy." He chuckled, and continued, "You know, a few of the other kids have started calling her 'Overload.'"

Paula and Ray both laughed, and Paula said, "I wouldn't really expect her to have a temper."

"Ah, she just gets a little frustrated at times." He looked down at the paper in front of him. "As do I."

"You know, Elias has employees here who could teach her for you."

"I know. Mister Altman tried to find her several suitable teachers, but she didn't like them. She said that they were strangers, and she wanted me to teach her because I'm her friend." He smiled, understanding her reasoning. He was silent for a few seconds, before asking, "Your dad doesn't mind if you call him by his first name?"

"Not really. Elias spent so much time at work, earning his billions, that my mom and I never saw him much. Then when he started taking in runaways, we grew even more distant. He was never really a father to me, so I never felt comfortable calling him 'father' or 'dad.' Then when mom died, we started spending more time together, and we've gotten pretty close, but I can't get out of the habit of calling him 'Elias.'"

Everyone in the room was quiet, until Jack asked, "May I ask you a question?"

Paula nodded.

Jack asked, "Why did you save me?"

"It was my job, Jack."

"No, not at the hospital. Why'd you save me when you found me? The two of you. At the wreck site."

"You know?" Ray asked.

"Yes. I've known for a while, actually." He thought of his mysteriously healed chest wound. He'd known since the day he awoke to find her standing over him in the hospital bed that she somehow had something to do with his recovery.

Paula cleared her throat, and said softly, "I'm not exactly sure. Something inside me said I needed to help you. Something told me that you were a good person, and there was a purpose for your life."

"You can heal people, can't you?"

"Yes. Or harm them."

Jack sighed, and then turned to Ray. "And why'd you knock me out?"

Ray seemed to be torn between several different responses. He finally chose the one he felt was best, a combination of the cold hard truth, and compassion. "There was this look in your eyes, Jack. You looked crazed, angry. I was afraid that you were going to kill her."


	10. The Mission

The early-morning silence of Jack's quarters was shattered by a ringing telephone. It was old, using a real bell rather than a synthesized electronic tone.

Jack grumbled angrily and slowly lifted himself up out of bed. For once in more than a week, he was having a good night's sleep. This night was not riddled with nightmares as previous nights were, but now his restful slumber was stolen from him.

He groggily walked across the dark room to the desk on which the telephone was sitting. His eyes were barely opened, and he was not trying to enhance his vision in any way, but he could unintentionally sense any obstacles in his path.

"Hello?" he asked, barely aware that he'd even answered the phone. A deep-voiced man spoke to him for a while. Slowly, his sleepwalking state became one of awareness and liveliness. "Okay, I'll meet you there," he affirmed, now completely awake.

He hung up the phone and immediately dressed. He wished he had time to bathe; he was too tired to do so the night before. But the tone of Avery's voice was very urgent and somewhat demanding. Jack knew he should respond as soon as possible.

Jack met Avery outside of Mister Altman's third-floor office. The dark-skinned gentleman seemed somewhat angry that Jack wasn't present in a matter of seconds.

"Come on," Avery commanded. "Everyone's waiting for you."

They entered the office, where several people were sitting at attention, facing Altman. Paula and Ray were both present, sitting closest to the old gentleman. Warren Chase sat next to them. Quincy Thurman and the twin sisters known as "Derecha" and "Izquierda" sat in the second row of seats. Behind them sat Frank Overby and Craig Ashford, while Johnny Johnson stood away from the others, leaning against a bookshelf.

"So glad you could make it, Mister McGregor," said Altman. He gestured to a chair. "Won't you have a seat?"

Jack did as the man requested, and the he asked, "So, what's going on?"

Altman nodded, sensing both hostility and curiosity in Jack's voice. "Sorry to call you here at this hour, but we're about to undertake in something very important and are short one man."

Avery stood beside Altman, and said quickly and very matter-of-factly, "Mister McGregor, the Altman Institute for a Better Tomorrow is not just a school and charity house. It is also a training center and headquarters for an elite paramilitary task force. This task force works to liberate mutants and non-mutants living under harsh, repressive conditions. You have been chosen to join this task force. Would you like to join?"

Jack was somewhat surprised, but somehow knew that Altman had been hiding some secret from him.

"What is your decision, Mister McGregor? Would you like to join or not?"

Jack looked Avery in the eyes, grinning slyly. He tapped his head with a finger, and referring to Avery's mind-reading abilities and his power to affect people's memories, he said, "I suppose if I denied your request, you'd use your crazy voodoo to make me forget you asked me this, won't you Avery?"

Avery didn't answer, but the look in his eyes answered Jack's question.

Jack thought silently for a while. He was unsure if joining a group of action junkies was wise, but he desperately needed to get out of this house once in a while. He smirked at Altman. "Sure, why not?"

"Very good," smiled Altman.

Everyone stood, and Avery removed a small black remote control from his pocket. He pressed a button on the device, and one of the bookcases along the wall swung out to reveal a large metal door behind it. Avery entered a rather long code into a control panel next to the door, causing the door to open. Everyone stepped into a large elevator, even Jack, who was somewhat reluctant.

The lift traveled down its shaft at a slow pace. One minute later, it stopped, and its doors opened. Jack was totally amazed at what he saw.

Before him was a cavernous white room. It was stuffed full of computer consoles and television monitors, as well as other machinery and technology that Jack didn't even know existed. Three hallways branched off from this main room, each leading to laboratories, armories, and training rooms.

Jack smiled, stating breathlessly, "Very good, indeed."

Altman lifted a hand, gesturing around the room. "Impressive technology, isn't it, Mister McGregor? Just like that MASC that you wear. You know, my company developed the technology that gave birth to your wondrous accessory. But, that isn't important right now." He turned to Avery. "Why don't you explain what _is_ important?"

Avery approached a large table, and everyone followed. He pressed a button on a console, and the table glowed, projecting a holographic building in the air.

"Three days ago, one of our agents in Denver was captured while trying to free a mutant being experimented on by a pharmaceutical company known as NeoDrug. He was expected dead, but we received a short communiqué from him less than an hour ago.

"In this message, he explained that he'd been ambushed. The security agents in the building knew he was coming. We're not sure how they knew this, but they did.

"His transmission was cut short and we haven't received any more word from him. We expect that he somehow escaped his holding area, and found a telephone or some other communication device, before being recaptured.

"Intel analysts have performed very detailed satellite scans of the building, and believe that our agent is being held on the seventh floor, in a high-security area.

"This is a search and rescue mission, and an information gathering raid, and will consist of two teams, Alpha and Bravo. Alpha will be comprised of Ashford, Chase, Derecha, and Thurman. Bravo will be comprised of Brody, Izquierda, Johnson, and McGregor. Overby will be driving Alpha team's insertion and extraction vehicle, while Mrs. Brody and I will pilot Bravo team's insertion and extraction helicopter.

"Alpha team, led by Mister Ashford, will enter the building from the ground floor and create a diversion. Simultaneously, Bravo team, led by Mister Brody, will enter from the roof, climb down an elevator shaft, and enter level eight. They will proceed undetected to Mission Point One, a ventilation shaft, which ends up in a security control room on level seven. This control room is very close to the area in which our agent is being held.

"Bravo team will disable security and proceed to the holding area. It is believed that the area in which our man is being held is the main experimentation area, so after extracting our agent, Bravo team will search for any mutant experiment subjects, remove any hardcopy files pertaining to mutant experimentation, plant EM charges to erase any computer data, and return to the roof via the emergency stairway located across the hall from the security control room. Alpha team will evacuate through a back alley, while Bravo team will be airlifted out.

"Bravo team, be sure not to alert security to your presence. The element of surprise is your greatest ally. And expect the unexpected. Any questions?"

* * *

The helicopter flight from Altman's mansion to the outskirts of Denver was rather short, only forty-five minutes, but Jack was somewhat bored and rather nervous. The large black vehicle had no windows except for those in the cockpit, and he felt somewhat claustrophobic, like a caged animal. Adding to his insecurity, he was having second thoughts about the wisdom of joining this team, and was unsure about the outcome of his first mission.

Ray noticed Jack's nervousness and decided to try to ease it by distracting him. He spent one third of the trip helping Jack memorize the team members' code names, as well as giving him some background information on each of them.

Ray was "Sarge," a nickname he'd picked up in the Marines, and Paula was "Goddess," which was derived from her healing powers. The twin sisters Derecha and Izquierda, who shared a strong telepathic link, went by their own names, as did Avery. Quincy Thurman, a mutant with superhuman athletic ability and an uncanny sense of balance, was "Acros" and Warren Chase, who possessed irrepressible mental powers, including an expansive memory and highly developed mathematical skills, was "Lost Cause." Frank Overby was "Sniper," as he had served as a sniper in the Marine Corps, and his young friend Johnny Johnson, Altman's adopted son who could produce small star-like orbs at his fingertips, was known as "Sol." Lastly, Craig Ashford, who was a retired Marine like Brody and Overby, simply went by "Ford."

"And we're going to call you 'Primal,'" Ray said, grinning at Jack.

"Primal. I like it."

The helicopter jolted softly as it touched down on the deserted road. The rear cargo door opened, and Thurman quickly drove the van carrying Alpha team out of the rear of the helicopter. As soon as the van was clear, the helicopter's cargo door closed, and the aircraft ascended.

"Going dark," Paula said over the vehicle's intercom system. The cargo area in which Bravo team was waiting temporarily went black, and then was dimly lit in green.

"That means that we're going to stealth mode," said Ray.

Jack nodded and crossed his arms nervously. He rubbed a hand against his bicep. It felt strange. He wasn't used to wearing anything like the black uniform he was in. He was used to his red button-up shirt and loose black overcoat. Instead, he was in a black skin-tight shirt and black gloves. His bottom half was clad in black cargo pants and tight combat boots.

His outfit, of course was not real, but rather projected by his MASC. Avery had modified it to emit not only Jack's normal clothing, but also the black tactical uniform worn by the rest of the task force. Jack knew it was not real, but his senses told him otherwise. It felt like real fabric. It held his body heat like real clothing. It felt odd, like he was in someone else's garments.

"Almost there," stated Ray. Jack looked at him.

He was wearing a uniform identical to Jack's, as well as a black tactical vest. In his lap was a silenced MP-5 sub-machinegun, identical to those carried by all of the non-mutant team members. Thurman, Derecha, and Izquierda, all mutants, opted to carry the weapons, too, while Johnson and Jack were going in unarmed, relying on their mutant powers instead. Paula and Avery, too, were unarmed, but would not be likely to see any action like the others.

A red light glowed to life on the bulkhead beside Jack. Ray looked up at it, and then gave his team a thumbs-up sign. They all responded by putting black ski masks on. Jack, who wouldn't be wearing one, simply closed his eyes and projected a mask in his mind, and one instantly appeared around his head.

The group stood facing the closed cargo door in a single-file line, Johnson in front, followed by Izquierda, then Ray, and lastly, Jack. They were all ready for action. The cargo door opened, and they all quickly exited onto the roof of the building they were about to raid.

The team quickly entered a small maintenance hatch located on the side of the elevator shaft, and they climbed down a small ladder inside. The descent to the eighth floor was short.

Ray held a small electronic device in his hand, pointing it at the closed metal doors. The device chirped quietly, but only once. "I'm not reading any cameras or any other security devices nearby," Ray whispered. "Izquierda, are they ready?"

Izquierda closed her eyes, probing her mind. At the same time, she was probing her sister's mind, and she quickly found the answer to Ray's question. "Yes," she responded in a thick Spanish accent.

"Are you sure?" asked Johnson.

"Of course I'm sure, you idiot. I'm a telepath!"

"Calm down, Izzy," whispered Ray. "Tell them that we're good to go."

"They already know."

"Good. Let's move, people." Ray reached into a pocket on his vest and removed a T-shaped device, part of which he slipped into the seam between the two metal elevator doors. He pressed a button, and the device slowly opened the doors. Ray was then able to make the opening wider with his own hands.

The team quickly exited the elevator shaft, entering the main area of the eighth floor. No one was on this level; it was used mainly for storage. Bravo team easily found the room that they were looking for, and slipped inside.

Before them was a tall metal blower, to which was connected a long ventilation shaft. They were supposed to get inside the shaft and make their way to the security station on the floor below, but there was no apparent way to enter the boxy metal duct.

"Sol, make an opening," ordered Ray.

"Yes, Sarge." Johnson stepped toward their intended route to the lower floor, removing his gloves. A small orb possessing the heat and brightness of a tiny star formed at his fingertips. The ball of energy moved toward the duct and melted away an opening just large enough for a human being to fit through. Johnson closed his hands into tight fists, and the orb disappeared.

Ray stepped forward, removing a small spray can from his vest. He pointed its nozzle at the hot glowing metal, and sprayed its contents out. A fine liquid mist flew out, cooling the untouchably hot metal.

Jack was amazed at Sol's and Sarge's resourcefulness. These people were prepared for anything. His confidence in the team grew, but he was still considerably nervous.

Johnson climbed into the shaft and carefully lowered himself without making any noise. By the time that Ray followed him in, Johnson was already making his way toward his objective, moving about through the eighth level's floor, and the seventh floor's ceiling.

Izquierda and Jack entered the duct and followed the two men. They soon reached their destination.

Johnson looked down trough a vent, and then looked back at Sarge. He gave Ray a thumbs-up sign. Ray nodded to him, and Johnson opened his hand, creating another orb, this one much dimmer than the previous one. The orb exploded, blowing the vent out, and Johnson quickly lowered himself into the room. Before the security officer seated at a console of video screens even knew what was going on, Sol wrapped an arm around the man's neck and rendered him unconscious.

The rest of the team jumped out of the vent, each examining Sol's handiwork.

"Nice job," said Ray. "I hope no one heard that little explosion, though."

"Don't worry, Sarge." Johnson seemed somewhat annoyed by Ray's comment.

The team examined the video screens on the console. Ray pointed to one. "There's our guy." He pointed to another screen, which showed a long hallway with two guards posted near a large doorway. "That's the hallway just outside of this room. We need to disable those guards, then gain access to that door."

"How we gonna do that, Sarge?" asked Izquierda.

Examining the screen closely, Ray noticed a small vent on the wall of the hallway. He looked up at the wall of the room in which Bravo team was standing, and found an identical vent. He pointed to it, saying, "That's how. Primal, can you do it?"

Jack looked up at the vent. It was much smaller than the one they'd just been in, but if anyone could crawl through such a tight space, he could. "Just give me a screwdriver."

Ray handed him the tool he asked for, and Jack transformed himself into a small monkey. He quickly scurried up the security console and began removing the screws holding the vent cover in place.

"Jack, take this." Ray handed him the spray can that he'd previously used to cool the melted ventilation shaft. "Since you can't unscrew it from the inside, freeze the vent and break through."

Jack took the canister and quickly climbed into the vent.

The rest of the team watched the monitor that showed the hallway. A small white cloud came through the vent behind the guards, and a second later, a small, but very strong hand punched through the frozen metal. Jack, still in the form of a monkey, jumped out into the hallway.

The two guards had heard the shattering metal, and when they turned to investigate, they were surprised to find that a small primate had somehow appeared behind them. One of the men tilted his head in surprise, then stepped back a bit as the monkey turned into a black-clad human figure.

Jack quickly reached for the two guards, grabbing their heads and bashing them together. The men fell into an unconscious mass in the floor. Jack looked up at the camera, flashing it a thumbs-up sign.

A door down the hall from Jack opened, and out stepped his teammates. They silently approached him, and Sol removed an access card from one of the guards' pockets. He ran it through the reader by the door.

Jack turned to Ray, saying quietly, "That was too easy. There's something wrong."

"You're just nervous, Jack," replied Ray.

The four commandos walked through the doorway, entering a large laboratory. Across the room were three small cells, two of which held prisoners.

"Primal, Sol, you two free those prisoners. Izquierda and I will search for files and plant EM charges," ordered Sarge.

Jack and Johnson approached one of the cells. Johnson melted its lock with another one of his orbs, and the two entered the cage. Only feet away, sat a man in a straightjacket, a look of senselessness on his face.

"Don't worry, Zeno," Sol said to the man. He knew him to be the captured agent they were sent to free. "We're here for ya."

A feeling of dread swallowed Jack as Johnson began to unfasten Zeno's straightjacket. His instincts were telling him this man was dangerous, and should not be freed. "Sol, no, don't!"

But it was too late. The restraining straightjacket fell off of Zeno, revealing that he was holding a gun in each hand. Smiling, he pointed them at Jack, and squeezed their triggers.


	11. Trust Lost

Jack's eyes slowly focused as he regained consciousness. He had no idea where he was, and barely remembered what had happened to him. He felt groggy and stiff. He'd been drugged.

The room was bright, too bright to readily make out the figures standing over him. He only saw them as dark shadows, obscured by the glare of the room's lights. He thought he heard one say, "He's coming around."

He finally gained near-perfect sight as his eyes filtered out the overbearing light. The shadowy blobs around him became human figures. There were two men and a woman near him. A little further away were two identical brown-haired young women. Across the room, he saw a man with a strange grin on his face.

Unbridled aggression immediately grew inside of Jack's heart as he realized who the man was. This was the man who had been captured by NeoDrug, the man he'd been sent to rescue, the man who shot him. This was Zeno.

Jack leapt up off of the examining table, rushing toward Zeno. An animal's roar exited his throat as he raised a hand, from which five six-inch claws were protruding, preparing to slash the man's throat.

"Jack, wait," a woman screamed.

But Jack couldn't wait. He was now only inches away from the man, and ready to kill him. He could almost taste his prey's blood as he was suddenly hit by a mass of hot energy. He was knocked to the ground, and his MASC flickered, slightly damaged by the blast.

Two men drew close to him and restrained the crazed young man. One was a black man, the other very white. A young man stood over him, a glowing orb in his hand.

Jack's aggression faded and his claws turned back into human fingernails as he realized who the people around him were, and where he was. The two men restraining him were Warren Chase and Avery. The man standing over him was Sol. The two men and the woman beside the examination table were Altman, Ray, and Paula, while the two young women were Derecha and Izquierda. They were all in one of the labs located in the team's underground base.

"What's going on?" Jack asked, directing the question toward anyone who would answer.

"The training mission didn't go as planned," Ray answered.

"Training mission?"

Paula explained what training mission her husband spoke of. "The mission to save Zeno from the NeoDrug facility. It wasn't real. It was only a training mission to test your skills."

Jack, who had just been released by Avery and Chase, stood. He looked at Paula, then Ray, then Altman, trying to understand what he'd just heard.

Altman stepped forward. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you, Jack. But we needed an accurate measurement of your performance. If we'd revealed that this was just a training mission meant for your assessment, the results would not have been accurate."

"You lied to me," Jack stated, staring angrily at Altman.

Sol immediately came to his adopted father's defense. "No one lied to you, punk. We just didn't tell you the whole truth."

Jack turned his head to Johnny. "You lied to me," he repeated, returning the young man's hostility ten-fold.

* * *

"Come on. We're gettin' outta here." Jack said, approaching April, who was watching a movie in the mansion's recreation room.

"What? Why?"

"These people are just a bunch of liars," he growled. "Just like the rest of the world."

"Jack! Don't go!" Altman and his disciples entered the room.

"Why shouldn't I? I trusted you. All of you! And you lied to me." He tried to leave, but he couldn't move. He wasn't paralyzed; he could feel his muscles tighten as he tried to escape. Something outside his body was preventing him from moving. "Let go of me, Elias."

Altman approached him. "Please, just hear me out. Then I'll let you go."

Jack sighed angrily. "Fine," he blurted. "I'm listening."

"It was supposed to be a simple mission," Altman said softly. "You and your team were supposed to get Zeno and the other prisoner, and get out. No one was supposed to get hurt. You weren't supposed to get drugged." He turned and glared at Zeno. "I'm not even sure how Zeno got his hands on those tranquilizer guns."

Jack said nothing. He was still angry.

"You weren't supposed to find out, Jack."

"Well I did find out! In fact, I found out a lot of things! I found out that you're all just a bunch of deceitful jerks. I found out that I'm just your tool. I found out what it feels like to stare down two pistols wielded by a psychopath! I found out what it feels like when you think you're about to die!"

Zeno made his way out of the group of commandos, slowly moving toward Jack. He looked at his feet, mumbling in an Australian accent, "Sorry 'bout that, mate. Didn't mean ta scare ya like that. I just wanted ta have a little fun. You know...rewrite the script a li'l bit."

Jack looked at Zeno, then at Altman. "What?" he yelled. "Your lackey just apologizes and everything's supposed to be fine? I thought I was dead!"

Altman sighed. He released Jack from his telekinetic control, whispering, "I'm sorry. You can leave if you want to."

Jack eyed the older man before forcing his way through the group of people standing in the doorway. "April, get your stuff and meet me at the garage."

Everyone was silent as Jack walked away. No one knew what to say, or what to do. But Paula quickly changed that.

"Jack, stop," she commanded. "Stop being so selfish. Stop acting like we owe you an apology. You knew what you were getting into. Just like all the rest of us knew when we joined this team. And just like the rest of us, Elias owes you nothing. We owe him!"

Jack turned. "What?"

"I said that we all owe him. He saved your life. He's saved all of us at one point or another." She paused for a couple seconds, and then continued, "He saved Derecha and Izquierda from the streets of Los Angeles. He saved Johnny from having to go to a boys' home. He saved Frank from drugs, Craig from a life of hatred, and Warren from a mental institution. But most importantly, he's saved hundreds of helpless children from fear. From lynch mobs and crime. From poverty. From themselves.

"If you leave, you're decreasing all our chances of saving scores of helpless innocents. We need you, Jack. We need you to help people like us, people like you, and people like April."

Jack stood silently for some time. He said nothing. He didn't move away from Paula and the others, but didn't move closer. He simply nodded his head, hesitantly agreeing with her.


	12. Troubled Minds

Jack sat quietly in the driver's seat of a black cargo van. Next to him sat Johnny "Sol" Johnson, who silently stared through a pair of binoculars. Neither had spoken for more than two hours.

Jack hated performing surveillance missions, especially with Johnson. Both young men were rather quiet, but together, it was like a funeral. They hated each other. They couldn't stand the sound of each other's voice. But they had a job to do, and no petty problems could keep them from achieving their goals.

It had been thirty days since Jack decided to join Altman's little army, a group that he'd learned was called the Shadows. More than four weeks since he nearly left the mansion. Neither he nor anyone else spoke of the events of that morning ever again.

Jack was nearly asleep. He'd been awake for nearly forty hours, and had been sitting in this van for one-fifth of that time.

He began to think about the people back at the mansion. He thought about Warren, who was quickly becoming his best friend. He thought about Altman and Avery, who were becoming his mentors. He thought about Ray and Paula, the couple who he secretly envied.

His jealousy didn't stem from a secret crush on Paula, for there wasn't one. It didn't stem from the fact that Ray was held in such high regard by all of the students, teachers, and Shadow members at the mansion. It wasn't because he disliked the couple. It was because they had each other, and he had no one.

He thought of April momentarily, then the girl of whom she reminded him. He would have given the world to get close to either of these charming young women, but he just couldn't. He didn't want to hurt anyone, especially someone that close to him.

He thought about an incident years ago, when he was still a teenager. For no apparent reason, he just lost it, abandoning all reason and goodness. He was an animal that day, and couldn't explain why. He did things he didn't mean to do. He said things he didn't mean to say. He didn't want that to happen again.

"Come on," Sol said, waking Jack from his drowsy state. "He's here."

Jack lifted his head in time to see a black luxury car pulling into the parking garage of a nearby office building. The two young men climbed out of the van, dodging cars and trucks as they crossed the busy morning traffic. They ran to the garage, where they began following their target. They watched as he climbed out of the vehicle, and they quietly approached him as he made his way toward an elevator.

The man seemed vaguely aware that he was being stalked, but he saw no one. He quickly ducked into the elevator, and sighed in relief as the doors closed.

At the last possible moment, an arm shot into the elevator, causing a sensor to open the doors. In stepped two young men, both wearing identical black uniforms and long overcoats. One was slightly taller than the other, and his hair was a bit lighter. A scar ran down his left cheek.

The man cowered, exhibiting a bit of trepidation as the two youthful men stared him down. He wanted to run, but he was frozen in fear.

As soon as the elevator doors closed and the large metal box started to ascend into the building above, Jack reached for a red button, pressing it with two fingers. A bell rang, and the elevator jolted to a stop.

Johnny held up a hand. He formed a bright golf ball-sized orb of plasma, which he flicked at a glass panel in the upper corner of the elevator. The glass shattered as the orb exploded, and the security camera behind the glass was rendered non-functional.

Jack pulled out a pistol, pointing the muzzle against the flesh behind the man's left ear. He leaned in closely to the man, whispering, "Where is she?"

The man was shaking and almost hyperventilating, but somehow managed to ask, "Who?"

"Don't play games with us, Morgan," Johnny said through his teeth. "Tell us where she is. Now!"

Morgan's face was one of agony. "What makes you think I know where she is? Why would I know where the kidnappers are holding her?"

"Because we know what you're up to." Jack drove the gun a little further into Morgan's flesh. "It isn't too hard to figure out, really. You're running for Senate on a strong anti-mutant platform. Your daughter's a mutant. Now, when you hate a certain group, and your offspring is a member of that group, what's an unstable man like yourself do? He has her killed. But the public doesn't know she's a mutant, so it looks like you, a loving father, have lost a loving child. You commit murder, gain their sympathy, and get the votes."

"Where is she?" Johnny asked, barely waiting until Jack had finished speaking.

"You two are crazy!"

Sol pushed Jack out of the way, wrapping a hand around the short chubby man's neck. "So what if we are? You know, crazy people do crazy things. Know what sounds like a really crazy thing to do? I think it would be just _crazy_ to kill you right here, right now. No, maybe we should kill your wife. Or your mistress. Or maybe, just maybe, we can arrange a meeting between them, and they can kill each other. Yeah, that'd be crazy!"

Morgan was now sure that these young men were out for blood. "Please, don't hurt me. Or my wife." He swallowed a lump forming in his throat. "Or Kelly."

"That's your whore's name?" asked Johnny. "Well, I don't really care what her name is! All I care about is finding your daughter before your plan goes any further!"

Jack pushed Johnny aside, whispering, "Sol, just calm down. Let me handle this." He turned to Morgan. "Now," he said, "you seem like a...reasonable man. Why don't you just tell us where she is, then we'll take her off your hands for you. No blood spilled."

"I'm not gonna tell you anything. That little freak deserves to die, just like the rest of you."

Johnny punched the portly politician in the gut. "The only ones who deserve to die are ignorant intolerant people like you!" he yelled. He examined the fear in Morgan's eyes. "But you deserve to be tortured before you die." He made a sphere of hot energy in his hand, and then lowered it to the man's crotch. "Tell us where she is, or you'll never be able to walk, run, or feel a warm summer's breeze ever again."

"Okay! I'll tell you!" Morgan was on the verge of wetting himself in horror. "She's at the old power plant about fifteen miles west of the city!"

Jack couldn't help but laugh. Morgan really thought that Johnny was going to make him a lesser man. Then again, Jack somewhat believed it, too.

"Thank you, Mister Morgan," Jack said smugly. "You've been very helpful." He removed a small phone from his pocket, pressed a button, and when someone on the other end answered, he said, "She's in an old power plant fifteen miles west of here."

Johnny released the fearful man, and pressed the elevator recall button. The steel box shuddered, then lowered back down to the garage. He looked at the pitiful excuse for a man, who was now on the floor of the elevator. He kicked him in the gut. "We should kill you, you inhuman piece of--"

Jack grabbed Johnny's arm, dragging him out of the elevator. He looked at a tall black man approaching the elevator. "Hey, Avery," he said smiling, "why didn't you just tail him and probe his mind? It would've been a lot easier."

"Because," Avery answered quietly, "He needed to be ruffled up a little." He knelt down beside the collapsed politician, and put a hand on his forehead. "Besides," he said, "I don't like probing people's minds. I do, however, like to alter memories." An invisible force ran out of Avery's hand and into Morgan's brain.

* * *

"In more recent news," the anchor on television said loudly, "Daniel Morgan has announced that he will be resigning from the senate race. The former candidate was found unconscious inside an elevator at his law firm, and after regaining his senses, he immediately declared his intentions of quitting politics. There is still no word of his daughter, who mysteriously vanished three weeks ago."

Jack pressed the power button on the television's remote. He smiled to himself. It had only been one day since he and Johnny had strong-armed the disgraceful man. "Avery's voodoo must've worked better than we all could've imagined."

"That's one less intolerant pig we'll have to worry about," Warren said. "And one new friend we've saved."

Suddenly, screaming erupted from down the hall. Jack felt it as an unfamiliar voice, and immediately realized that it must be that of Gina Morgan, the girl that was rescued from her father's evil clutches.

Jack and Warren left the rec room, running toward the source of the screaming. They found the girl sprawled out on the floor, wearing a white gown, like the one Jack had worn at the hospital so many weeks ago. Altman stood over her with a look of despair and discouragement on his face.

"Leave me alone! You're worse than him!" The girl was hysterical. "You're worse than him! You're all monsters! Killers! You're worse than him!"

Avery ran forward, and knelt beside Gina. He stuck her with a small needle.

Warren was afraid, and began nervously chanting the digits of Pi, something he did whenever stress overpowered his troubled, over-productive mind. "Three point one four one five nine two six five three five eight nine..."

"You're all evil! Evil! You're worse than him!" Gina's screaming grew quieter and slower as the tranquilizer slowly took effect. "You're...worse...worse than him."

Behind him, Jack could still hear Warren, who was now several digits into the numeral Pi. "Five zero two eight eight four one nine seven one..."

Elias sighed. "I'm afraid we can't help her," he said. "Her mind's gone."

* * *

That night, as Jack exited the shower, all his thoughts were on Gina's outburst. He knew she was probably just rambling on about nothing, unable to control her words, but something inside him said that she was truly trying to communicate. Trying to tell what she felt.

He knew that the girl was a psychic. She could read minds. "Did she find something that nobody else here knows about?" he asked himself silently. "Is Elias lying to us all?"

Jack quickly dismissed these questions. He once asked himself similar questions, but they were nonsense to him. Elias wasn't a liar, as Jack had once believed him to be. He was a mentor, a friend.

Jack's troubled mind slowly shut down for the night as he drifted off to sleep.


	13. Surprises

Jack awoke around eight in the morning. He was somewhat surprised that he'd received a full, uninterrupted night's sleep, but not surprised that he was still very tired. His sleep was filled with strange dreams, none of which he could remember clearly. None of the events in his mind's nighttime episodes were familiar to him now, only a strange feeling of urgency, and of dread.

He stood and closed his eyes. His MASC hummed, and his holographic t-shirt and boxer shorts were instantly replaced with his daytime clothing. He smiled to himself, but his expression quickly changed as he looked down at the bed, unnerved by what he saw.

The sheets of the bed had several long tears in them. It was almost as if someone had taken knives to the fabric, or maybe something was forced through the sheets. The pillow also had a long gash, and the synthetic padding inside was forcing its way out.

Jack had experienced this once, years ago: he'd woken up to find tears like this in his sheets. He'd heard that some people toss and turn so violently sometimes that they damage their bedding, or even the mattress on which they were sleeping, so he thought nothing of it. Nothing more than a bit of surprise.

Jack stripped the bed of its tattered coverings; this was the day that the resident maid would be changing the mansion's bedding, anyway.

He piled the bedding by the door, and then went downstairs to the kitchen. He'd hoped to find his group of friends, April, Warren, and the twins, but only April was present.

"You look horrible," April stated, picking at the eggs on her plate.

"Thanks." Jack rummaged through the cabinets and refrigerator. He retrieved some cereal, milk, and appropriate dishes for the food, and then sat across the table from April.

"Out late, or trouble sleeping?"

"Neither. Trouble _while_ sleeping, though."

"Huh?"

"Weird dreams."

"Oh."

"How'd _you_ sleep?"

"Pretty good, I guess." April looked into Jack's eyes. "But I thought you might be out on some scary mission, so I was kinda worried."

Jack ate a spoonful of his breakfast. "Nope. No mission last night. Thank God." Another bite. "But you shouldn't worry about me. I can take care of myself."

"I know, but I don't wanna lose you. Other than Warren, Dera, and Izzy, you're my only friend. Everybody else here seems kinda creepy. You know, like they're up to something."

Jack understood completely, but reassured her, "Ah, don't worry about them. They're good people."

"So you trust them?"

Jack thought for a while. He didn't want to remember when he _didn't _trust them. He'd been through too much, and had done too much for Elias to just revert to feelings of suspicion and mistrust. "Yeah. And you should too."

"I guess you're right." April pushed her plate out of the way, and reached for the spoon in Jack's cereal bowl. She loaded it up with the sweet milk-covered food, and took a bite.

"Um, excuse me," Jack said somewhat angrily. "That's mine."

"I know." April smiled at him. "But these eggs are nasty."

"That's not the point. You're eating _my_ food with _my_ spoon."

April rolled her eyes. "You're not afraid of germs, are you? It's no different from kissing."

"But we've never kissed."

She smiled slyly. "Yes we have."

"What?"

"Yeah. A couple weeks ago. The night we stayed up watching movies in the rec room. You fell asleep. I kissed you."

Jack felt confused and somewhat irritated. He shook his head, asking, "Why?"

"Dunno. Just felt like it."

Jack didn't say anything for nearly half a minute. "Ok. You say that these people, who saved us, and are trying to save others, are creepy. But you made out with me while I was asleep. _You_ are creepy."

"I did not make out with you! I just gave you a little kiss." She smiled. "And I'm not creepy. I was just curious."

"What?"

"I'd never kissed a guy. I never met a guy worth kissing until you came along." She placed a hand on his.

Jack just stared at her. He had no idea what to say, but somehow managed to mumble, "Uh, thanks." He didn't know what to do now. He bit his lip, and after nearly thirty seconds of silence, he stated, "Um, I think I'd better go. It's almost time to check in with Avery."

April sighed as Jack hurried out of the kitchen.

* * *

Jack's mind was in total chaos as he climbed the stairs leading to Elias Altman's third-floor office. Now, on top of all the other problems, mysteries, and questions floating about in his brain, he now knew that April, the girl he'd sworn to protect, thought she was in love with him.

Subconsciously, he'd known about this crush. He'd seen the way she admired him. How she watched him, and how she was constantly trying to get his attention. The tone of adulation in her voice. But consciously, he'd never really realized any of this.

As Jack neared Elias' office, he heard three voices. All male. Each had a tone of anguish, confusion, and anger in their voices. He stepped into the doorway of the office, and found the reason for their very emotional voices.

Altman's office was in pieces. Books were scattered across the floor. Paintings were torn to shreds, and deep scratches in groups of four and five were visible on almost every object in the room. Two bookcases were literally ripped out of the walls, and behind one, the once-hidden elevator door was horribly bent and battered.

"What happened here?" Jack asked.

"We're not entirely sure," answered Elias. "But it seems that we had a break-in."

Avery turned is head, as if listening to someone calling his name. In a strange way, someone was calling for him. Telepathically. "Sir," he said to Altman, "I believe Warren and the twins have found something."

"Where are they?" Altman inquired.

"In the security room." He looked at the elevator, which looked non-functional. "We'll have to take another way down."

Avery and Altman left the office, followed by Ray and Jack. They went downstairs and outside, and then went around to the side of the large house. Avery opened up a cellar door, and they went inside. Inside the cellar, they descended a rather long staircase, and after several computerized security checkpoints, they finally ended up in the secret facilities deep underground.

After a couple minutes of traveling through a labyrinthine series of hallways, they entered a room, where Warren, Izquierda, and Derecha were watching several video screens.

"Did you find our culprit?" asked Elias.

Warren turned to the older gentleman, and replied, "We think so. Watch."

The group watched the video playing over and over. All they saw was a dark hallway, the hallway outside of Altman's office. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"Just what are we supposed to be seeing here?" asked Avery. He seemed rather annoyed.

"Nothing," Warren said. "That's the point." He pressed a button on the panel in front of him, and the image on the screen changed to one comprised of shades of blue. "Now...watch it on infra-red."

Again, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. No source of heat showed up on the screen.

"Again, nothing." Warren seemed entranced by the video screen. He typed a long sequence of keystrokes into the keyboard. "But look at this. Last month we installed new laser- and sonar-motivated scanning devices. They are able to accurately detect and render any three-dimensional object within their scanning field. This is what they found."

As the screen changed to shades of gray, everyone saw something making its way down the hall. Everyone could tell that it wasn't a human; it seemed to walk on four legs. It was some sort of creature. A creature that no one could recognize. A creature whose appearance possessed both unearthly unattractiveness, and perfect natural beauty.

The strange animal came closer to the camera, and everyone could see its form clearly. Its body looked almost like a strange combination of canine, feline, reptilian, and human forms. It was a mass of pure, powerful, crude muscle, somehow blended with gentile grace. Except for a long, flowing, coarse mane, and long quills on the end of its feline-like tail, it seemed almost hairless.

"What is it?" asked Avery.

Warren quickly looked away from the monitor. He looked as if he'd been broken from some strange hypnotic trance. "I don't know." He looked at Elias and Jack, softly saying, "But I think I _do_ know how it evaded the regular camera and the IR filter."

"How?" Avery wanted answers. He was in charge of keeping the mansion secure, and this creature had made a mockery of his job.

"I think it can change color. Watch this." He punched a few keys on the panel in front of him, and the screen changed to the original repeating image. He punched a few more, and the image's contrast and brightness changed.

"Okay. Watch this area," he said, pointing to the area where moonlight was streaming in through a window. "Here he comes."

All eyes were on the previously established point. Everyone waited breathlessly, and then sighed silently as they saw a bit of darkness move into the lighted area. As soon as it appeared, it was gone. It was brief, and virtually unnoticeable, but it was still there, captured on video.

"Now," Warren murmured as he punched a few keys on the keyboard, "I'll put the image from the sonar and laser sensors next to it."

The screen split, and two virtually identical images appeared side-by-side. On the right was the original video, and on the left was the sensor image. The videos ran slowly, and as the creature on the left side of the screen entered a certain area, the glitch of darkness showed up in the moonlit portion of the right image.

"See? The little irregularity shows up there right as the creature passes through that area. Its skin, or fur, or whatever, changes to a perfect camouflage. It isn't instant, but very close."

Altman cleared his throat, and then asked, "But why didn't it show up on the IR scope?"

"Simple. It can match its body temperature with its surroundings. Pretty cool trick, huh?"

"Hmm," Jack sounded. "It looks to me that it's a predator."

"How can you tell?" asked Ray.

"Well, many predators rely on camouflage, usually more heavily than their prey. That's why a tiger has stripes. Why a lion is light brown. They blend in with their surroundings.

"Their intended prey is also camouflaged, but not as well. Sure, lots of insects, reptiles, and fish can perfectly match their surroundings, but that's not the case with 'higher' animals. I mean, a gazelle's camouflage is no match for a lion's sense of sight. And zebras' camouflage only prevents a predator from telling where one zebra ends and another begins. More of a confusion tactic than a defensive one.

"But predators rely much more heavily on camouflage than most prey. They _need_ it in order to sneak up on prey. Silence and stalking from downwind only go so far if the predator contrasts with the environment.

"This thing can match its surroundings perfectly. Barely visible, no discernable heat signature. I bet it doesn't even have a noticeable scent. No animal with camo this good is meant to be prey. This is an _offensive_ tool, not a _defensive_ one."

Ray nodded, "The perfect predator."

Warren nodded too. "And what's the perfect predator without a sentient mind? Look at this."

The screen changed to a different image, now showing Altman's office. Everyone watched as the creature entered the room. After coming through the door, it turned and closed it.

"It knew what it was doing," Warren said. "It closed the door to keep anyone from hearing as it searched the room."

"How would that keep anyone from hearing?" asked Izquierda, stealing the question from her sister's mind.

Avery turned to her, answering, "Mister Altman's office was designed to be sound-proof while the door is closed. I was just explaining that to Mister McGregor and Mister Chase a few days ago."

The beast on the screen headed to Altman's desk, immediately rummaging through the wooden piece of office furniture. It seemed to be looking for something. But whatever it was that the creature was looking for, it wasn't there.

The animal's attention turned toward the bookshelves. It began pulling books off of the shelves with its hand-like front paws, looking at the cover of each manuscript before tossing it aside. It spent the next several minutes doing this, until every single book was in the floor.

The creature turned its head toward a shelf near Altman's ravaged desk, and almost appeared to smile. It tore its paws into the seam between two shelves, and effortlessly ripped them out of the wall, revealing the large metal door behind one of them. Then, just as it had torn the shelves out of the way, it ripped the door open. It then entered the elevator, pressed a button, and disappeared into the bowels of the earth.

"That's where the trail ends," Warren stated. "There's no more really useful footage. The cameras down here aren't hidden like the ones up in the mansion. He easily found them and took them out before setting to work."

"What did he do down here?" asked Ray.

"The same thing he did up in the office. It ripped one room apart, looking for...something. Then it accessed several computers. Somehow got into the boss' personal files. This thing is smart."

Altman nodded, saying, "Yes. Too smart to be just an animal. I believe this is a human, or at least it used to be a human." He paused. "Before its mutation took effect."


	14. Search for Truth

The girl in the bed in front of Jack seemed so peaceful and beautiful. Her jet-black hair was long and silky. Her skin was a light brown color. Her unconscious breaths conveyed an air of serenity.

As he drew closer to her, he saw that she was not as serene as he thought. Her eyes were clenched tightly, and her hands were in white-knuckled fists. Her breathing became erratic and labored. She could feel him approaching.

Suddenly, Gina sat up in the bed. She had a look of fear and surprise on her face. Nearly in tears, she groaned, "The animal. The man. What are you?"

"I'm Jack," Jack answered in his most calming voice. "I'm a mutant, like you."

"Not like me. Animal! Savage! Angry!"

"Shh... calm down." Jack slowly lifted a hand. "I want to help you."

Gina's stare softened a bit, becoming more an appearance of anxiety than fear. "Help?"

"Yes, I want to help you. And I think you can help me."

"Help? How?"

"Just try to clear your mind. Close out the voices."

Gina looked pained. "Can't. Too loud. Too many." She could hear the thoughts of everyone within a few hundred feet. Their feelings of happiness, fear, anger, sadness, and curiosity enveloped her, were a part of her. Their public speech, and most private thoughts bombarded her.

The doctors had once told her parents that she was schizophrenic. They said that the voices were caused by a chemical imbalance. They didn't know the truth, and even if they did, they would never readily accept the fact that she was a telepath.

Her father was the first to realize that the voices weren't just in her head. They were in everyone else's heads. She knew everyone's secrets. Including his. His hatred. His fear. His past deeds.

"Then don't try to quiet the voices. Try to accept them." Jack closed his eyes and projected pleasant images in his mind, trying to soothe her. "What are they saying?"

"Everything. Feelings of love. Hatred. Despair. Want. Murder."

Jack's eyes immediately opened. He was rather surprised to hear that word. "Murder?"

Gina had begun crying. "Yes, murder. He wants to kill."

"Who wants to kill?"

"He wants to kill. Love. Hatred. Sadness. Revenge. He wants to kill!"

"Who wants to kill? Who does he want to kill?"

"He wants to kill all those outside! Those who are evil! So passionate! So sad!" Gina was becoming hysterical.

Jack placed his hand on hers, whispering, "It's OK. He's not going to kill. I won't let him."

Gina was very disturbed by the feelings she'd just channeled, but Jack had an idea of how to calm her. He'd once seen a documentary about how animals are used as therapeutic aids for mental patients. Immediately, he turned into an orange and white cat. He jumped onto the bed, and again began projecting pleasant images in his mind. He gently rubbed his soft furry head against her hand.

Gina began returning the simple affection, involuntarily rubbing the cat's head. She soon began running her hand down his back, and her tears stopped flowing. Hearing the feline's purrs, her mind forgot the overwhelming images and voices. She smiled, and slowly drifted to sleep.

* * *

"I understand you made a very substantial step in Miss Morgan's recovery," said Elias.

Jack smiled humbly. "I guess so. But I'm afraid it's not nearly enough. She's still going to need a lot more help."

"Every little bit helps, Jack. And that little bit can go a long way. Paula will be pleased to hear that you've been so helpful with her patient."

"When will she be back?" Jack knew that Paula, one of the only people he fully trusted, was on another business trip for her father, but he had no clue where she was, and didn't know when he'd see his friend again.

"Soon." Elias turned to Jack, eyeing his worried face. "Jack, is something troubling you?"

Jack glanced around him. The large flower garden through which he and Altman were walking was beautiful, slightly easing him. "Elias, when that creature...that unknown mutant broke in, what do you think it was looking for?"

"I'm not sure, Jack."

This answer troubled him; he knew that Elias was lying.

"Why did it only access your personal files in the computer database?" Jack asked his friend and mentor. "What information do you have there?"

"If I told you that, then they would no longer be my personal files, now would they?" Altman seemed somewhat annoyed by the inquiries, but still managed to remain calm and compassionate. "Actually, I think it was an agent sent from a rival business owner. I have so many corporate enemies, Jack."

Jack said nothing to this.

"You do believe me, don't you, my friend?" Elias asked, truly unsure what Jack's response would be. "Don't you trust me?"

Jack wasn't quite sure how to answer. He didn't know if he _did_ trust him. Thinking logically, Jack remembered that this man had saved his life, accepted him for who he was, and taught him so many valuable things. But thinking instinctively, Jack knew that Altman kept so many secrets from him. Lied to him.

Jack ignored his instincts, opting for logic. He nodded and smiled, answering quietly, "Yes."


	15. The Vision

"I think your father is up to something," Jack whispered as he sat down on the couch in the rec room.

Paula had only been back from her business trip for a matter of minutes. She'd gone to the recreation room in order to unwind and stay away from people for a while, but Jack had quickly found her.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure." He paused. "I think he's going to do something bad."

"Like what?"

"I don't know...but murder is a possibility."

"Murder?" The word shocked Paula just as much as it had shocked Jack when Gina said it to him. "Have you lost it, Jack? Where did you ever think up something so crazy?"

"I didn't. Gina Morgan did. She said that someone was planning to murder some people. Lots of people."

Paula closed her eyes tightly, trying to decide whether Jack was telling the truth or playing some sick joke on her. "Did she tell you that Elias was the one who was brewing up this plan?"

"No."

"Then why do you think he's the one?"

"I don't know. I just do."

Paula shook her head, sighing angrily. "Jack, don't be getting all paranoid on me. My father is the most peaceful, compassionate man on the face of the Earth. He'd never kill anyone.

"As for Gina, I don't think you should be taking her ranting seriously. There's too much going on in that poor girl's mind for her to make sense of it all."

Jack said nothing.

"Now, just forget it and let me take a nap," Paula ordered. "And don't go around telling everyone that my father is going to commit mass-murder. These people would kill anyone who even joked about that. Especially Johnny."

Neither Jack nor Paula noticed the man standing in the shadows behind them, nor did they notice as he quietly left the room, smiling ominously.

* * *

Jack heard labored, frantic breathing as he ran through a densely wooded forest. He had no idea how he'd gotten there, or where he was running to, but one thing was certain: he couldn't stop running. His body wouldn't obey his commands to stop and rest. He just kept moving, a sense of urgency in his mind.

Finally, he stopped his frenzied traveling as he neared a large chain-link fence that was topped with razor wire. He looked around, and then effortlessly leapt over the obstacle, landing silently on the other side.

Jack wondered how he'd cleared the fence so easily, and had no inkling as to why he'd even done it. It was as if he was watching it all through someone else's eyes, trapped in someone else's body.

He mindlessly surveyed the area. It looked like some sort of military compound. There were two watchtowers and many military-type vehicles around. Several drab buildings stood nearby. Guards patrolled the area, but amazingly, none noticed him.

He spent the next few minutes silently searching through buildings, until he came to one full of computers and huge monitors. He looked through several documents, none of which he could readily understand. It wasn't a matter of literacy; he read the papers and information-filled computer screens just fine. It was more a matter of retention. As soon as he read a word, he somehow forgot it. The information just didn't register in his brain.

Suddenly, an ear-piercing siren sounded, and several red lights flashed. Fear enveloped him, and then overcame him as he heard a deafening roar.

* * *

Jack gasped loudly, almost choking on the air as it entered his lungs. He felt that he was about to be discovered, or even killed. But nothing happened. He didn't even hear the sirens, or see the flashing lights any more.

He looked around him. His surroundings were very familiar. A few feet away was a writing desk. The walls were dark and made of wood arranged in beautiful panels. There was a closet door in front of him across the room, and a larger door to his right. Underneath him was a large bed.

Jack sighed when he realized where he was and what had just happened. He lay down and closed his eyes. "Just a dream. Just a strange dream."

Suddenly, the phone on the desk rang, and Jack jumped in surprise. He slowly dragged himself out of the bed, and picked up the device's receiver.

"Hello?"

"Jack," Altman said over the telephone, "meet me at the helipad in five minutes."

* * *

"There's been another break-in," Elias said as he, Jack, and Ray loaded into Altman's Bell Jet Ranger helicopter, one his smaller, more "civilian" aircraft.

"Where?" Jack had a strange feeling.

"At a Shadow facility a few miles from here. The men there said that the perpetrator was some sort of strange animal. I thought since you have the ability to feel animals' thoughts, you would be a great help in possibly finding the intruder."

Jack's strange feeling changed into one of sickness and dread as he thought of his strange dream. "I saw it."

"Saw what?" Ray and Elias asked in unison.

"The break-in. I saw the break-in."

"How could you?" Ray asked. "You weren't there."

"No. I wasn't there physically. But I was there mentally. It was like a vision."

"You mean you could see what the creature saw?" asked Altman.

"Yeah. I don't know how, though"

Altman thought for a while, and then asked, "I was right. You can feel its thoughts, correct?"

"Yes."

"Do you think you could have psychically seen what this creature was seeing?"

"Maybe." Jack looked out the window, seeing a very familiar facility down below the helicopter. It was the place he'd visited in his dream. "Wait. Make that a 'yes.'"


	16. Project Utopia

Jack's head ached as he tried to remember the previous night's vision. It was once so vivid, but now it was nothing more than a series of vague images.

"Your mind is repressing the vision," said Avery.

Jack opened his eyes. "Why?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. Maybe something traumatic happened, and now it's trying to heal the damage. Maybe your mind is rejecting the memories, like white blood cells kill a foreign body." Avery reached out toward Jack. "But that's soon to change."

Jack gasped as Avery probed his mind. Memories slowly flooded back to him. Recent memories. Memories of long ago.

"Now do you remember?" Avery asked.

"Yes. But I don't think these memories are of any real importance. The creature just searched through the buildings, finally stopping at some kind of control room or something."

"Do you remember which documents the creature accessed?"

"No. Not really."

Avery looked both disappointed and relieved.

"Sorry," Jack said quietly, "there's not really anything I can tell you."

Avery left the room without saying a word. When Jack felt that the man was too far away to probe his mind, he stopped projecting false images in his head. It was a trick that Warren had taught him to keep Avery from knowing everything that went on.

"Project Utopia," Jack whispered to himself.

* * *

Paula sat on a bench in the estate's large garden. She was so peaceful, so serene. The birds sang to her. The wind blew softly. She jumped as someone touched her shoulder.

"You know more than you let on," Jack said quietly. "Just like Elias."

She looked up at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Your father _is_ up to something, and you know all about it, don't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He squeezed her shoulder tightly. "Don't lie to me. I've been ignoring my instincts for a while, but I'm listening to them now. I know you're lying."

Paula said nothing.

Jack squeezed her shoulder a bit harder. "What do you know?"

"My father is very secretive about his work. He doesn't tell me about it."

"Liar!" Jack was getting angry, much angrier than he'd been in some time.

"Okay. He's working on some project."

"Project Utopia?"

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"I don't know."

"_What is it_?"

The pressure on Paula's shoulder was becoming unbearable, and a tear rolled down her cheek. "Please, Jack. You're hurting me!"

"Tell me what it is, and I'll let go."

She began crying softly. "He said that it will make the world a better place. That's all he's said about it."

Jack's instincts said that, for once during this conversation, Paula was telling the truth. He let go of her shoulder, and headed toward the house.

Like during their previous conversation, Jack and Paula were being spied upon. But this time is was not just one pair of ears listening in, but two. The same deranged man was snooping from behind a nearby gazebo, while a smaller, feminine figure did the same from behind a large hedgerow.


	17. Captured

Jack entered his quarters, angry and confused. He wanted to leave, just as he had wanted to weeks earlier, but he also wanted to figure out what was going on at this place. There were too many questions that needed answers for him to just run away.

He stopped dead in his tracks as the room's door closed behind him. Something was wrong. The room smelled strange, and it was almost as if someone was near him. Jack's heart fluttered as he realized he'd walked into a trap.

Someone grabbed him from behind as another came at him from the side. Yet another came from the other side and grabbed his legs.

Primal fear and rage enveloped Jack, and he began fighting back. He immediately raised an arm, throwing his second attacker, who had approached from his right side, off of him. He grabbed at the person holding his legs, while elbowing the side of the foe behind him.

"Hold him!" yelled a familiar masculine voice.

Jack continued to struggle with the men, and his defensive fight became more and more offensive. He was gaining the upper hand in this battle. But suddenly, he felt a sharp stab of pain on his left temple, and he fell to the ground. He was stunned, knocked senseless.

The three men piled on top of him, each muttering his own words of anger and frustration. One reached toward his neck.

Jack roared in pain as he felt a needle tear into his jugular vein. Then, just as quickly as he felt the pinprick, he felt nothing, swallowed by darkness.

* * *

Jack groggily opened his eyes. His head ached, and he felt as if he were dreaming. But as his senses slowly came to him, he realized that this was no dream, but reality.

He couldn't see anything; the room was too dark. He tried to change that, using his heightened sense of sight, but it was no use. His mind was still numb from the drugs coursing through his system. All he saw was a blur.

The room suddenly erupted in light, blinding whiteness that surrounded Jack. Reacting rather slowly, he squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to cover his eyes with an arm. But his arm never found its way to its destination. His body was too weak.

"Hello, Mister McGregor," Altman said menacingly.

Jack couldn't make sense of these words, just as his eyes could not see at full efficiency. He moaned; the same moan one might make the morning after a long night of drinking. His head felt heavy, and he slowly drifted back into unconsciousness.


	18. Prisoners

"So why are you holding me here?" Jack asked, staring through the thick glass window in front of him. He saw four people on the other side, Elias Altman, Raymond and Paula Brody, and the strange man who he knew only as 'Zeno.' He knew that they all heard his question over the intercom, but none answered. Paula didn't even look at him.

Jack made a clicking noise with his mouth, followed by a long deep sigh. He hated it when people ignored him, especially whenever it was so obvious. He decided that he needed to force their attention to him.

A strong roar filled the room, and Jack ran at the window, hitting it with all of his weight. He bounced off like a rag doll, and ended up in the floor after losing his balance.

Ray muttered something under his breath, and then turned to Elias, whispering in his ear. Elias just stared through the window at Jack.

After only a couple seconds of recovery, Jack quickly stood and moved close to the window. His eyes met Altman's, and they exchanged a long stare. Suddenly, Jack's face erupted in unbridled anger, and he swung an arm at the window, slashing it with razor-sharp claws protruding from his fingertips. The attack was very forceful and would have been enough to slice a bowling ball into pieces, but the window was barely scratched.

Paula, who had jumped when Jack lashed out at the window, looked down, avoiding looking directly at her friend.

Jack glanced at Paula, and then back at Elias. He quickly struck again at the window, this time punching it instead of clawing. Seconds later, he struck again, and again shortly thereafter. He continued punching the windowpane until his hand was numb, and blood covered the Plexiglas where he had repeatedly struck it.

Paula had jumped in her seat every time Jack punched the window, and now she was hiding her face in her hands. Ray, who had previously been stone-faced, was grimacing at the sight of Jack's bloody hand.

Jack turned from the window, slowly walking away. He stopped after seven steps, and quickly spun about and charged full speed back toward his captors. Not far from the window, he jumped and kicked it, flipping off of it backward. He landed on his feet, and immediately ran forward, slamming into the glass, glancing off of it, and running toward the opposite wall. He continued this action for several seconds, literally bouncing off of each of the room's four walls, and even the ceiling. A savage look crossed his face, and the cries and roars of animals escaped his throat. He had become a caged animal, trying to escape, or kill himself, whichever came first.

Zeno had begun laughing to himself as he watched Jack's brutally primitive display. Altman was now the only one of Jack's captors who did not have some sort of emotional response to the show in the holding cell.

Suddenly, after hearing Jack's screams, feeling the vibrations of his body violently striking the walls, and sensing the extreme pain that he was causing himself, Paula sat up and screamed, "Stop!"

Jack immediately responded, and he halted his charge across the room, sliding a bit on his blood that had spilled on the floor. His body heaved as he breathed heavily.

"We'll answer your questions, Jack," Paula announced over the intercom. "Just stop. Stop doing this to yourself."

Jack collapsed in the floor, and as he examined the wounds that he had inflicted upon himself, he said, "Good. Now, why are you holding me here?"

Altman answered him reluctantly, "Because you know about the project, Jack."

Jack sighed. He already knew his imprisonment had something to do with his knowledge of Project Utopia. "Yeah, I know _about_ it, but I don't know _what it is_."

"Still," replied Ray, "you know too much."

A door in the observation room opened, and April entered. She looked in horror at Jack's self-mangled body, but at the same time, she seemed quite smug. She crossed her arms and stood beside Zeno.

Jack looked at Altman. "And who told you I knew anything about Utopia?" He looked up at Paula, the only person he'd spoken to about the Project. He knew that she couldn't see him, as she was deliberately not looking at him, but he felt that she knew that he was staring at her.

Altman glanced over his shoulder. "A little bird told me."

Jack's gaze turned to Zeno, who was standing next to Elias. Anger welled up inside him as he stared at the Australian, the same man who had shot him with tranquilizers only seconds after meeting him. Jack had never trusted him, and now that he had betrayed him to Altman, that distrust had become irrepressible hatred. Jack immediately stood, and lunged again at the window, his focus on Zeno.

Altman lifted a hand, and using his telekinetic powers, halted Jack's attack. He tapped a button on the control panel in front of him, and the room began filling with a white gas. "That's quite enough of that, my boy," Elias stated in a tone of both anger and compassion.

* * *

Jack awoke to darkness, something to which he was growing accustomed. He'd been held captive for at least three days now, maybe even longer. After his display of primal anger, his captors had put him in restraints, mostly for his own protection. Every morning, however, as those watching over him changed shifts, he tried to escape, trying again to tap into his natural primal strength. But every time, the cell was filled with gas, rendering him unconscious. He'd wake up about twelve hours later, the room shrouded in darkness. He'd try to escape the next morning, with the same results. He knew this cycle was futile, but there was nothing better to do.

He closed his eyes, reopening them a few seconds later. He could see everything around him in perfect clarity, including his guard in the observation room. It was Sol.

"Maybe I should try to escape again, just to make Johnny boy mad," Jack muttered to himself, chuckling. He decided that this time, he wouldn't just try to tap into his primal brute strength, but actually become a form of pure power. He projected the image of a Kodiak bear in his mind. Surely this hulking beast would be able to break free of his restraints.

But before Jack's transformation into a bear could begin, he noticed the door in the control room open. In walked Zeno, who greeted Sol right before pistol-whipping him with a large handgun, knocking him unconscious.

Jack stared in disbelief as Zeno pressed a button in the observation room, opening the door leading into Jack's cell. For the first time since Jack had met him, the Australian looked perfectly serious. He reached toward Jack's metal restraints, releasing him.

A roar tore out of Jack's throat as he leapt toward Zeno. He knocked the older man to the ground and landed on top of him. He reached back, and six-inch claws formed at the tips of his fingers.

"I should've done this a long time ago," Jack growled. He prepared himself for the kill. His arm tensed, and quickly sped toward his prey's throat.

"Wait!" Zeno was somehow able to get an arm free from beneath Jack, and was able to block his attack, the long claws tearing into his forearm instead of his neck. Zeno had almost no reaction to the sharp object ripping into his flesh, except for dropping the gun from his hand.

"Don't fight back. It'll just make it more painful," Jack said angrily.

"Don't kill me. That'll just land us both in the grave." Zeno stared stoically at the young man who'd come so close to killing him. "I ain't the one who snitched on ya, mate."

Jack's claws returned to their natural form of human fingernails, slowly sliding back through the bone and muscle of Zeno's arm. "Then who did?"

Zeno started to answer, but Jack wasn't able to hear him. Instead, he felt the sting of metal ripping into his flesh, and the familiar sensation of tranquilizers slowly enveloping him.

* * *

When Jack awoke, he knew he wasn't alone in his cell. He could feel another person nearby. Hear his breathing. Smell his sweaty body. He knew he was sharing the chamber with Zeno even before he could see him.

"God Almighty, mate. Took ya long enough ta wake up. Course, if ya hadn't tried ta kill me last night, you'd be free insteada pumped fulla drugs."

Jack sighed. "Sorry."

Zeno smiled. "No worries. We're gonna get outta here."

Opening his eyes, Jack saw that Zeno was being held on a metal rack identical to his own restraints. He sighed again. "I wish I shared your optimism."

"Ain't optimism. It's the truth."

"Sure." Jack closed his eyes and began exercising his neck, trying to relieve the pain he felt. He reopened his eyes and asked, "So who ratted me out?"

Zeno looked toward the window separating the cell from the observation room. "Hell hath no furry like a woman's scorn, mate."

Jack looked in the same direction, seeing Sol and April in the observation room.

"'Specially a broken-hearted one."


	19. Rescue

Jack and Zeno sat across from each other on their cell's cold metal floor, the two men's backs resting against opposing walls. They rolled a penny across the floor between them, which, aside from talking, was the only activity that they had to pass the time.

It had been some time since they were both imprisoned. Neither of them knew exactly how long it had actually been, but they estimated that they had spent the better part of two weeks in captivity.

"So," Jack said, "tell me more about your military career."

Zeno took some time to respond. "Well, there's not much more to tell. Like I told ya six times already, I was in the Australian army for a few years. Did a few special assignments around the world. Even worked with the US Army Special Forces. Did some top-secret stuff. You know, the usual."

"What kind of 'top-secret stuff?'" Jack asked in a somewhat mocking tone.

"_TOP_-secret stuff. The kinda stuff I'd have ta kill ya for if I told ya about it." Zeno smiled.

Jack returned his grin. "Well, I doubt we're gonna live much longer, anyway. And if they don't kill us, they'll probably keep us in this little room for the rest of our natural lives."

Zeno chuckled. "Not gonna happen, mate."

Both were silent for some time. This was an almost constant silence during their imprisonment. It was only occasionally broken whenever one of them decided that he needed to say something or die of boredom.

"You did pretty good, kid," Zeno finally said. "I've been workin' for Elias f'three years, tryin' to find out exactly what he's up to, and you come in here, pokin' your nose around and get in as deep as me in less than three months. Beautiful."

Jack smiled again. "Well, what can I say? I like to, uh, sniff out trouble."

"Yeah. You got a real nose for it."

The two chuckled, and then fell silent again. Neither spoke for almost an hour. Finally, Jack started to say something, but something stopped him. Something strange.

Jack felt a soft tremor. At first he though it was his stomach; he and Zeno were only fed once a day, and he was constantly hungry. But he soon realized that the vibration came not from within him, but somewhere far off. The next time he felt it, it was more pronounced, and the next time, it was accompanied by a low-pitched rumble. Soon it became a soft boom, and then much more apparent.

By the time that it became a very distinct thundering, both Jack and Zeno had stood, and were looking around in confusion. They had no idea what the sound was, and were somewhat frightened by it.

"Jack," Zeno whispered. He pointed to the window of the observation room. "Look."

Jack peered through the thick window and saw Sol, who sat perfectly still, a bewildered look frozen on his face. A chill ran down Jack's spine as he gazed at the eerily motionless young man.

Suddenly, the room shook, and a loud clatter was produced as something struck the door of the cell, bending it. The door was hit again, causing a repeat of the noise and vibration. With the third impact, the heavy steel door fell down as its large hinges were ripped out of the wall.

Jack was confused and somewhat fearful as he watched a tall, muscular man step through the opening. Behind him was a blonde woman.

"Ha ha!" Zeno exclaimed. "I knew you'd come!" He turned toward his cellmate. "Jack, I'd like you to meet a coupl'a friends of mine—"

Jack cut Zeno's energetic sentence short. "Matt? Addy? What are _you_ doing here?"

Adriana stepped toward him. "I was about to ask you the same question."


	20. Utopian Genocide

There was little time for conversation as the four mutants raced through the winding corridors of the underground complex. There were more important things to do than talk, but Jack needed clarity.

"You guys met through Special Forces, right?" he asked, his sentence fragmented by the deep breaths he took with every step.

"You got it, kid," Zeno answered.

Matthew chuckled. "This crazy Aussie saved my butt about a dozen times. Remember Afghanistan?"

Zeno grinned. "I'm tryin' to forget it." He led the group around a corner into a much larger corridor. "Our door's just ahead."

The group came to a large closed door with the word 'Transit' labeled across it. Addy touched a button next to the door, only to hear a loud buzzing sound. "Locked."

"No problem," Matt made a fist and started to swing at the door, only to have his arm grabbed by Zeno.

"There's an easier way, mate." Zeno turned to a keypad built into the wall, into which he punched a series of commands. The console beeped, and the metal door slid open.

On the other side of the door was a large bay of transports, which looked like large streamlined vans riding on monorails. Several tunnels lined the walls of the bay, each having their own destination.

Jack was hardly surprised that Altman's complex stretched as far as it did, but he was somewhat awed by the efficiency and sheer magnificence of it all. "He's been busy, hasn't he?"

"That he has," Zeno answered. "Elias has been buildin' this place for decades. He needed somewhere to carry out his schemes, and this place is a reflection of the huge extent of his madness." He ran toward one of the transports. "This one leads to the silos."

A chill ran down Jack's spine as he realized just how sinister Altman's plans were. "Silos?"

* * *

The transport moved very quickly, faster than most people drove down the interstate, but the trip was still somewhat lengthy. During the downtime, Zeno explained things to the other three.

"I've been tryin' to crack all this for years," he said. "Elias keeps all his plans pretty much between himself and Avery, but occasionally, I've been able to get my hands on some info.

"Pretty much, Altman's psychotic. He's extremely suspicious of the world, and feels that it owes him. He plans to make it pay its dues to him by shapin' it into his personal Utopia. He literally wants to destroy all those who don't see things from his point of view.

"The missile complex we're goin' to has ten warheads armed with an extremely deadly toxin, which he plans to detonate into the atmosphere. I'm not sure how, but he plans to use this toxin to kill all but those he's chosen to live."

"What kind of toxin is it?" Matt asked.

Zeno sighed. "The toxin's…unique. It's a compound that over stimulates the human immune system. The body quickly deteriorates, eatin' away at itself. Eventually nothin' more than dust and bone is left."

"Not much left," Jack stated. "I can see why he's using this. With so many people out of the way, and only minimal cleanup involved, the world is still his. No bodies to dispose of, no disease spreading across the world." He looked at Zeno, who seemed somewhat distant. "How do you know so much of how this toxin works?"

Zeno was silent for a moment. Finally, he responded, "I'm the source. My immune system is very…efficient. That's my mutation. Matt, remember when I got shot three times in that mission in Malaysia, and when Doc tried to remove the bullets, he couldn't find 'em? My body destroyed 'em.

"Anyway, Altman somehow found out about my mutation, and he approached me, saying he wanted to run tests and experiments on me. Said his people were looking for a cure for cancer. Well, I fell for it, and they poked and prodded me for a year. Eventually, they came up with this serum, and I went to work for Altman, working in his little army. Almost by chance, I found out the truth about his little 'miracle drug' he made from me. He didn't make a cure for cancer, but a horrible weapon."

A low growl escaped from Jack's throat. "And why didn't you do anything about it?"

"There wasn't much I _could_ do. I just decided to keep low, and not tell him I knew about it. So, for the past three years, I've been collecting as much information as I could, hopin' that I would eventually be able to do something."

Jack could feel his claws and teeth growing and sharpening. "This is all _your_ fault. You could have stopped all of it."

"Jack!" Addy yelled.

"No, mate, it's Altman's fault. He tricked me. Now I'm doin' all I can to stop 'im, and with your help I think we can take him down." Zeno extended his arm, holding his hand out to Jack.

Anger and hatred made his blood boil, but soon enough, logic overruled Jack's passions. He grabbed Zeno's hand, and they shook. "I'm sure we can."


	21. Confrontation

The determined group of mutants quickly exited the monorail transport and stopped at a large metal door. Zeno punched a series of characters into the door's access panel, only to hear a buzzing sound.

"It's locked down," Zeno said. "I think Altman might be expectin' us."

"Well, let's not disappoint him, then." Matthew said as he stepped forward. He made a fist and began pounding on the huge security door. "This time we do it my way."

Eventually, the steel door and the concrete wall surrounding it gave way, and collapsed in a loud thud. Cement dust clouded the entire area, and as it cleared, Jack and his allies saw a few figures emerging from the next room.

"So nice of you and your friends to join me, Mister McGregor," Altman said as the dust settled. Beside him stood Avery, Paula, Ray, and April. "Come to witness the dawn of a new era?"

"I've come to stop that 'era' from coming about," Jack growled. "You can't do this, Elias."

"And why can't I? Over millennia, man has done much worse things than that which I am about to do."

"This is genocide," Jack stated as he stepped toward the older man.

Altman held up a hand, using his powers to stop Jack in his tracks. Zeno, Matthew, and Addy, too, were prevented from making any movements.

"What do you know of genocide?" Altman looked as crazed as Jack knew he was. "I witnessed genocide when I was a boy, and I tell you, this is _not_ genocide."

Jack growled, "What is it, then?"

"Purification!" Altman paused for a moment to regain his composure. "The hate of the world must be irradicated.

"When I was a boy, I saw first-hand what hatred can do. I saw the death camps. The piles of bodies. I saw my mother murdered by Nazi thugs, and my father, an officer in Hitler's army, executed for loving her."

Jack was barely able to shake his head in disapproval. "If you do this, you're no better than Hitler, or even that self-righteous idiot, Magneto." He paused for a moment. "You can't change the past, Elias."

"But I _can_ change the future!" Altman was now unable to control himself. "What I do, you insolent fool, is out of love for mankind, not hate. I will rid the world of intolerance and hatred. For years, my agents have been choosing who should live and who should die, all according to the people's worth. The chosen few have been exposed to the antibody, and the good will survive and the evil will perish. It will be a Utopia."

Ray, Paula, and April seemed to just become truly aware of what was happening. Their faces showed a mixture of disgust, fear, and astonishment. Avery, however, remained stone-faced, as if he had known all along. He must have known.

"You can't force the world to change," Jack stated. "It has to evolve at its own pace. More blood _will_ be spilled before mankind finds true peace, but I won't let it be by your hands."

Altman smiled at the younger man. "And how do you plan on doing that, when you can't even move?"

"He may not be able to do anything," April said behind Altman, "but I certainly can." Without any hesitation, she unleashed a blinding bolt of energy toward Altman, striking him in the back.

The old man's body seized in pain as thousands of volts coursed through his body. His hold on Jack and the others was broken, and he collapsed in the floor, screaming in agony. His muscles all tensed involuntarily, and his flesh began to burn. When it seemed that he could take no more punishment, however, he reached out across the room and mentally grabbed a syringe from a lab table. The needle hovered in the air for a second before speeding across the room, where it struck the girl, piercing her heart.

Jack and Paula both cried out as they watched April fall to the floor, and they both rushed over to her, as Avery quickly picked up his mentor and hastily carried him into the next room, locking a security door behind them.

"April! April, no!" Tears streamed down Jack's face. He couldn't believe what had just happened. The girl he had sworn to protect was now dieing, injected with the toxin that would momentarily be unleashed upon the entire world. He could see the vitality fading from her eyes as her skin turned a light gray color.

"Jack," April whispered. "Jack, I'm sorry. I didn't know." Her body went limp, and it was obvious that she was not long for this world.

"No," Jack whispered as he held April's head against his chest. Tears flowed from his eyes. "No. No." A long, barely audible growl escaped his throat.

Suddenly, a terrible roar filled the room. It was a roar of pain, anger, and sadness that sounded so unnatural that it sickened everyone who heard it. The veins in Jack's neck and forehead bulged as he released this horrible howl, and a crazed look showed in his eyes. His body covered itself in a dense ghostly gray fur, which was only a tiny fraction of an inch in length, and a long coarse mane of quill-like blue-gray fur grew from the top of his head and down his back. His face stretched and distorted, as did his arms, neck, and torso. His teeth became fangs, and his fingernails became steel-gray claws. Every muscle in his body swelled to almost four times its original size, and a long muscular tail tipped with quills appeared from his elongating spine. He had become his true self. _Primal_ was truly unleashed.


	22. Final Battle

The hulking beast raced toward the large metal security door, striking it with the force of a bull on the rampage. The creature snarled loudly and began slashing at the door with its claws like a crazed cat fighting for its life. It roared, which eventually faded into an unnatural voice.

"Elias!" Primal screamed as he wildly slashed and pounded the door. "I'll kill you, Elias!"

Everyone stared in disbelief at the creature that only moments ago had been a young man. None of them seemed to truly understand what was happening, at least none of them but Paula. She had a knowing, almost satisfied look in her eyes as she watched the animal tear away at the obstacle between himself and his prey. Her expression changed to one of compassion and urgency, however, as she knelt beside April, whose skin was now starting to crack and crumble.

"There might be time," Paula said. She placed a hand on the girl's chest and closed her eyes, concentrating on isolating the poison in her body.

Ray started to stop his wife from trying to save the girl, knowing that Paula might kill herself in the process. He stopped when she looked up at him and shook her head.

"Ray, please." She looked back down at April and closed her eyes again. A spasm of pain enveloped her as she began draining the girl of death, the girl's skin slowly healing and returning to its natural color.

Yards away, Primal continued to force his way through the door, but was stopped when a blinding orb of energy struck his body, exploding on contact. He was thrown to the floor, and when he got up, another blast hit him. He knew before he even looked up who his attacker was.

Sol stood in the demolished doorway where Primal and the others had recently entered from the transport bay. He began forming another orb of plasma in his hands. "You can't stop him," the young man said.

Primal lunged toward Sol, barely dodging the last energy ball the other mutant had tossed at him. He struck Sol with all his might, and the two grappled in a fury of claws and white energy.

Paula looked up momentarily as Primal and Sol fought, but then set back to work rebuilding April's damaged body. The young girl eventually looked as she had minutes ago, beautiful and full of life. Her skin was no longer cracked and discolored, no longer a deathly shade of pale. She smiled as she opened her eyes.

Paula sighed, and her body immediately hit the floor. The toxins she had drawn out of April's body were too much for her own body to handle, and her skin quickly began to deteriorate, cracking and tearing. "Hurry," she whispered hoarsely. "Take me to my father."

Ray quickly but carefully lifted his fading wife off the floor and carried her toward the door that Primal had tried with all his might to destroy. It was still impassable, but that would quickly change. Matthew and Adriana would be sure of that.

Concentrating, Addy formed a pocket of decelerated time to help prolong Paula's life, while Matt set to work tearing the security door to pieces. It took him nearly a minute to finish Primal's job, but to Paula and Ray, it was only a matter of a couple seconds. After the doorway was cleared, Addy released her hold on the couple, and Ray carried his wife into the next control room, April following close behind.

Meanwhile, the battle between Sol and Primal still raged. They exchanged punches and kicks, occasionally one of them landing a solid blow. Sol hit Primal with volley after volley of energy blasts, which were returned with slashing claws and flesh-tearing bites.

"I've wanted to kill you since I met you," Sol yelled as he blasted Primal in the face, throwing the fierce creature fifteen feet. "Disgusting animal."

Primal immediately leapt back toward Sol, swinging his tail at him and burying several razor-sharp quills into his side. He growled, "Too bad you won't get the chance."

"If I haven't killed you yet, it's only because I haven't finished torturing you yet," Sol shrieked. He formed one last orb and tossed it at his adversary.

Primal's instinctual movements allowed him to quickly gain the upper hand. As the globe of glowing plasma neared him, he leapt forward, allowing the orb fly beneath his body. It struck the floor behind him and exploded, propelling him toward his enemy before Sol could even react. As he came close to Sol, he bit his arm and the two sparring titans spun on an invisible axis between them. Primal released his grip on Sol's arm, slingshotting him toward a nearby wall. The young man struck the concrete bulkhead with enough force to send several deep fractures along the wall's surface, and almost as quickly as he was flung toward the wall, he bounced off of it, his lifeless body slumping onto the floor.

Primal growled menacingly, "I said you wouldn't get the chance."

As Primal entered the control room to which Avery and Elias had fled, he was ready to kill his former mentor. He was shocked to find that Paula had already done the job for him, though. She knelt beside her father's lifeless body, Elias' skin turning to dust. Soon almost nothing remained of him.


	23. Epilogue

In the days following Altman's death, his dark labyrinthine facility was completely destroyed by the remaining Shadows. None of them had truly known Altman's intentions, and all were more than eager to make sure his misguided dream of mass murder did not live on.

The missile complex was the first to be destroyed, Ray and Matthew demolishing the launch control computers soon after Elias crumbled into nothingness. Adriana used a colossal pocket of accelerated time to destroy the five warheads and their evil cargo. In a matter of seconds, the huge weapons crumbled into heaps of rust, while the toxin carried within destroyed itself. Ray and Ford returned to the silo the next day, completely devastating the complex with a bomb large enough to vaporize any remaining poison.

Altman's laboratories were next. All paper records of the toxin harvested from Zeno's blood were burned; all of the computers were purged. Another bomb was set in this part of the complex, reducing the subterranean compound to nothingness. All entrances from the surface were sealed.

The occupants of the mansion were never informed of the situation beneath their feet. Only the Shadows knew what had happened, and everyone regarded the tremors from the subterranean explosions as mild earthquakes, nothing more.

Publicly, Elias Altman, Avery, and Johnny Johnson had been lost at sea, the result of a terrible storm hitting Altman's yacht while the three were on an outing off the coast of Mexico. A ceremony for them was held at the mansion with Jack delivering the eulogy.

In truth, Avery was still alive, or at least presumed to be. He had escaped the missile complex, apparently leaving his mentor to die of the wounds April had given him. But Altman was strong, and even as Paula transferred the toxin from her body to his and he began to waste away, he still attempted to start the missile launch sequence. He died only keystrokes away from killing countless billions.

In Altman's will, controlling interest in his business empire had been left to Paula. She quickly sold most of it, investing half of the profits in charities, while the other half went to the continued funding of the Altman Institute for a Better Tomorrow.

Jack returned April to her family. She barely objected as he left, knowing why he was doing it. He didn't want to get her into any more trouble. After all, in the time that they had known each other, they both were drawn into the lair of a madman, and April had almost gotten killed. She didn't blame Jack, but she knew that he blamed himself. They said their goodbyes and parted with a kiss.

* * *

Darkness was the only thing Jack saw as he slowly opened his eyes. He knew where he was just by the smells and sounds around him. He took a blind step forward, and a cool breeze swirled around him, enveloping him in the aroma of cedars and honeysuckle. The chirps of the birds' early morning calls soothed him. He slowly allowed his eyes to adjust until he could see his surroundings with utmost clarity, and he smiled. He began running, running to nowhere. His pace quickened, and as he darted between the trees, he began running on all fours. Almost immediately his body transformed into his animal form, into Primal. He was home. 


End file.
